


Tales from the Driver's Seat

by Cardinal_Daughter



Series: Tales from the Driver's Seat [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Actor!Gold, Driver!Belle, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Non-Cursed AU, Romance, no magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 45,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3220316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardinal_Daughter/pseuds/Cardinal_Daughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Gold is an actor trying to deal with the Hollywood culture he is so opposed to. He’d probably give it all up, if it weren’t for his kindhearted personal driver, Belle French.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee and Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> This is an open prompt verse that started on Tumblr. I will be posting all the current installments here, and will update it as I write more. Fics are posted here as they were originally posted on Tumblr. If you wish to read the series in chronological order of events that happen within the TFTDS verse, you can find that list on my Tumblr page. 
> 
> This series has no beta. Apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> Rating is for later chapters. 
> 
> ____
> 
> Anon on Tumblr prompted: "rumbelle au in witch mr gold is actress belle French loyal limousine driver"

"Good morning, Mr. Gold!" 

John Gold grunts hatefully as he slides into the Rolls Royce. “I hate when you call me that.” 

The driver of the car turns around in her seat and offers Gold a smile and a cup of coffee. “Extra shot of espresso,” she chirps, unfazed by her employers sour mood. Gold grabs the cup and takes a long swig from it. He sighs, then looks up at the petite brunette sitting in the driver’s seat. 

"You’re a miracle, Belle." 

"And you’re my boss, so ‘Mr. Gold’ it is." 

Gold rolls his eyes. “If I can get you a raise, will you stop?” 

Belle French just smiles and turns around in her seat. She puts the car into drive and pulls onto the street, toward the television studio where Gold is due for an interview. “You get me a raise and I’ll call you whatever you want.” 

He chuckles, and takes another sip of his coffee. They ride in silence for a few minutes before Belle speaks again. It jars him, as he is exhausted from the previous day’s interviewing and promoting. 

"You ready for your close up?" She asks as she pulls onto freeway, switching lanes to get in the left lane. Gold snorts in an undignified manner. 

"I’m an actor," he gripes, his accent thickening as he complains, "Not some fame-crazed celebrity. I don’t understand this society’s obsession with me or the need for all this foolishness." 

Belle shrugs and glances back at him through the rear view mirror. “Because people don’t know the difference between actor and celeb anymore,” she offers, “Not everyone can appreciate you for your work alone.” 

"You seem to be the only one who can," he grumbles, taking another drink. He stares appreciatively at Belle, who has paused the conversation long enough to merge onto the exit she needs to take. He hadn’t wanted a driver, he recalls, but his manager had insisted. With his popularity rising, and his leg in the shape it was in, Gold had needed a driver. It had been a freak accident, a stunt gone wrong. But even twenty years after the fact, John Gold’s leg wasn’t the same. The best doctors had been called, but nothing had been able to restore his leg back to normal. He reaches down to feel the brace that is hidden underneath his Armani suit. It isn’t perfect, but it makes the limp practically unnoticeable to the untrained eye. But those closest to him knows how badly his leg aches him, and it had been with that in mind that Jefferson had made the executive decision to hire a full-time driver. 

Instead of going through an agency, Jeff had went to an old friend from college.  
He had sworn by her, claiming she was loyal and responsible, and would never reveal any secrets she learned. Gold had been unconvinced, but Jefferson had hired her anyway. Desperate for a job, Belle French had been nothing but grateful upon meeting him, and when she smiled at him sincerely, not those fake smiles obnoxious fans often gave him, he had relented. 

That had been three years ago. Now he can’t imagine life without Belle, who drives him to every event he attends, and offers support and friendship along the way. She is more than an employee of the agency that hired her: She is his dearest friend and closest confident. He knows he would be utterly lost without her. 

"I know a good movie when I see it." She says at last. 

"You like musicals." 

"So?" 

"Your opinion is no good." 

Belle switches lanes once more and gives him a dry, humorless laugh. “Just because you aren’t sophisticated enough to appreciate a good musical doesn’t mean you have to insult the entire genre, you sour puss.” 

"I’m a sour puss because it’s fuckin’ 5:15 in the morning and I’m on my way to some stupid interview to promote a movie I only did because Jefferson practically forced me too." 

"Jeff means well," Belle defends gently as she reaches the studio entrance. She parks and shuts off the engine, then turns to face the backseat. "But he is an idiot at times, I agree." 

Gold nods, then turns to step out of the car, where a body guard is waiting to escort him to make up. He glances back at Belle, then hesitates. Belle offers him that same sincere smile that first melted his heart and asks, “Want some company?” 

Gold relaxes instantly and nods before stepping out of the car. Belle joins him at his side a moment later, and nods to the body guard who is waiting impatiently for them. 

"Thank you," Gold says as he follows the large, burly man inside. Belle says nothing and instead silently takes his arm, allowing him to lean on her. 

"I’m your driver," she reminds him, "I go where you go." 

Gold opens his mouth to thank her, but the moment he’s inside the building, he’s being pushed and pulled toward one of the dressing rooms, people fussing over him and talking to him and about him, and it’s far too chaotic for his liking. He manages to glance back to see Belle trailing close behind, her employee badge brandished like a weapon so she can easily follow him anywhere. He sighs, truly grateful for her. If it weren’t for her, he thinks, he’d have given up on all of this a long time ago. But as long as she continues to greet him with coffee and smiles every day, he thinks he can manage to keep it up a little while longer.


	2. Difficult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Gold is a difficult man to work for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see chapter one for information on this series and the disclaimer.
> 
> Anon on Tumblr prompted: "the first difficult year of Belle like driver of Gold, who was not easy. Ready to give up, Belle is offered a better job, but she decides to stay with John."
> 
> This chapter takes place toward the beginning of their work relationship.

He’s a difficult man to work for, that much is certain. Belle sits in the driver seat, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, trying to dry her tears quickly. She hadn’t meant to be late, and she had sped at an alarming rate to get him to his gig on time, but he had still laid in on her, calling her all sorts of awful names.

She sniffs and dabs at her eyes some more. She thinks back to the day Jefferson, her old college pal, had rang her up, letting her know he had a sweet gig for her. She had accepted before even knowing what it was, because her rent was due and the amount in her bank account wasn’t enough to cover what she owed. Then Jefferson had dropped the bomb that she would be the personal driver for none other than John Gold.

Belle remembers with a slight chuckle how she had dropped the phone in her shock. She had been in love with John Gold for years, studying his movies religiously until she knew them all by heart. Her infatuation with him hadn’t been much of a secret during her college years, but as she had matured, her obsession with him had simmered and calmed. Then Jefferson had given her the opportunity of a lifetime, and she had been torn between hugging him and throttling him.

John wasn’t what she had expected, she recalls as she pours some water out of her bottle onto a new tissue and tries to clean her smudged mascara. She’d known he was a private man, but she hadn’t expected him to be so distant and cold. She was used to it now, though it still stung, and Belle wondered if she would ever get to know the man who sat in her backseat every day.

She doesn’t have time to wonder further, as Gold throws open the door and slides in, demanding in a gruff, accented voice for her to “Go, now.”

She speeds off, knowing if she wants to be spared another verbal beating, she’ll get him the hell out of dodge. So she speeds, just as she had on the way to the studio, and gets him home in record time. He says nothing when they arrive at his townhouse, and he flings the door open once more and leaves without another word. Belle sighs and slumps against her seat, turning her head to glance at the piece of paper on the passenger side. She bites her lip, then picks the paper up, rereading the printed out email and sighing heavily. She’d applied for the job on a whim, thinking she’d never get an interview. Gold had pissed her off tremendously one day last week, and so she’d gone home and started job searching practically out of spite.

But then she’d gotten one, and was now being requested for a second interview. She reads the email again, thinking of how much this new job paid. It’s a lot more than she currently makes, though that figure is nothing small either. But it’s a job without John Gold, and she can’t quite bring herself to envision a life without him.

She decides to give herself another day to decide. She’ll make a list, the pros and cons of working for Gold and see what the outcome is. Putting the car in reverse, she turns back to check behind her before she backs out. Something catches her eye then, and she looks down to see the book Gold had brought with him still sitting in the car. Groaning, she shuts off the engine and grabs it, deciding to just return it now than to risk his anger later on. Best to just get it over with, she thinks. He can yell at her if he wants; it’ll just be a mark to the ‘con’ list.

She takes the lift to the top floor and uses the spare key Jefferson had given her to let herself in. She contemplates just placing the book on the counter and leaving, but as she steps through the entryway, she looks over and freezes. Gold is sitting in his armchair, pants leg rolled up as he struggles with the metal contraption wrapped around his leg. He curses, then runs a hand through his hair. As he does so, he lifts his head, going stiff when he sees Belle standing there, his book in her hand. He sits back, silent, and Belle can only stare at him nervously for several long moments. She risks a glance down and sees the brace, still on his leg, the skin around it red and clearly irritated. It looks uncomfortable, and it suddenly dawns on her that his hatefulness isn’t borne out of a dislike of her; he’s in horrible pain.

She places the book on the counter and steps forward, knowing that she’s taking a huge chance, but unable to help herself. She remembers a time when she would have freaked over the thought of being in the same room as John Gold. But he’s not just some guy on the screen she can drool over anymore. He’s a man, made of flesh and blood, and he’s hurting. So she doesn’t freak out, doesn’t giggle or act as if he’s anything _other_ than a man. Because he gets enough of that, she thinks as she kneels at his feet and begins to carefully unhook the brace. What he needs is a friend, someone who can care for _him_ , and not the persona he’s forced to play for the hungry, unforgiving public.

He says nothing, just watches her as she removes the brace. She then carefully lifts his foot onto her lap, and begins to lightly press against his skin, moving her fingers in small circles. He hisses, then seems to relax, and she glances up at him. He looks confused, as if he should yell at her for overstepping her bounds. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches and nods slightly when she hits a spot just right.

“My dad has knee problems,” she says at length, and it stirs him out of the comfortable daze he’s fallen into. “My mother would always massage his knee like this after he’d been standing all day.” She glances up at him and ceases her movements for a moment. “If you want, I can get a hot rag to put on it, too. That always helped.”

Gold nods, and Belle removes his foot from her lap before rushing to the linen closet and pulling out a wash rag. She runs it under scalding hot water, then pours some in a small bowl. She returns and after she wrings out the rag, she runs it over his ankle. Gold sighs as the heat relaxes his muscles.

“Thank you,” he says at last, and it’s so soft Belle barely catches it. She says nothing in return, and instead smiles at him. “I’m sorry for being so hateful,” he adds on as he watches her take care of him, “I’m not a nice man, but that’s no excuse.”

“It’s not,” she agrees as she continues to massage his leg, “And neither is this,” She gestures to his leg, “But I certainly understand. Besides, I wouldn’t say you aren’t nice. You’re just….difficult at times.”

“I’ve made it _unnecessarily_ difficult for you,” he argues, leaning forward to catch her hand. “I’m… sorry.”

“It hurts,” Belle says, glancing down at his leg, “And, pardon my bluntness, you aren’t close to a lot of people. You don’t really have anyone to talk to. Having a chronic injury and no one who really understands how it feels don’t mesh well. If part of my job needs to be letting you blow off some steam occasionally, I don’t mind.”

She does mind, she thinks to herself, but she also thinks that he needs someone to talk to at the end of long, hard days. He’s single, with no close family, and he has to be lonely. She knows she is. If he wants to confide in her, she’ll welcome it. She wants to be his friend, she realizes. She hopes one day he can see her as such.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says as he lets go of her, leaning back against his seat wearily.

“One day you might,” she quips, and they both look at each other before sharing a good laugh.

“Thank you, Belle,” he says again, “For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Gold,” she says, showing the respect deserving of her employer. Gold winces and Belle moves her hands away.

“Don’t call me that,” he says and she realizes he was showing distaste at his name, “It makes me sound so old.”

“Jeff said I needed to show respect.”

“Jeff is an idiot,” Gold says as he removes his foot from her lap and rolls down his pants, “Call me John.”

—-

Later, after she’s cleaned up her mess and made him promise to take his pain killers, she returns to her car to head home. She slides in the driver’s seat and looks over to the printed email once more.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she rips the paper to pieces.


	3. Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle doesn't like to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon on Tumblr Prompted: "The romances with stars gives money and wake careers. So Jeff wants Gold to have a romance with a star, but he is more worried about Belle' opinion about this."

Belle and John sat on the lush sofa in Jefferson’s office, feeling more like children being scolded by the principal than adults having a conversation. Jeff was upset, ranting and raving about the newest tabloid magazine that had hit the stands, the cover picture a blurry but obvious shot of Belle and John embracing outside a small cafe. 

“‘Reclusive actor dating mystery woman’!” Jeff read dramatically before dropping into his office chair heavily. “I thought you didn’t do this kind of stuff, Johnny?” 

Gold grimaced. “Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, then reached out for the paper. “We were having lunch for Belle’s birthday,” Gold said as he looked at the picture in disgust, “I gave her a present, and she hugged me. If some shithead photographer can get _this_ picture, why couldn’t have have gotten the rest of the story?” 

Jeff gave Gold a dry look. “Because friendly birthday gifts don’t sell,” he said simply, “Secret romances that end up public do.” He pulled himself up to lean over his desk and look at his friends. “I’ve told you before, if you’re going to end up on the front page of shit magazines like this, let me orchestrate it; make it work to your advantage. I’ve got a list of young, up and coming actresses who would give their right arm to be rumored of dating you. Scandal makes people interested, and if they’re interested, they’ll go see your movies, and that brings in the money.” 

"Why can’t people just go see John’s movies because he’s actually good at what he does," Belle snapped, arms crossed indignantly, not liking the thought of her face - no matter how blurry - on every newsstand in LA. She knew that her job would ultimately land her in the public eye, but this was ridiculous. They’d celebrated her birthday, as any normal friends would, and now they were on the front page, speculation rising over whether they were dating or not. It was ridiculous, though she had to admit, the thought of dating John Gold was a pleasant one. She risked a glance over at him. He was scowling as he continued to argue with Jeff. Yes, dating Gold would be very nice, she decided. 

"I’m not going to pretend to date some actress in an attempt to boost her popularity," Gold hissed, his tone final, "I had to work my ass off when I first started, and I didn’t have to sleep - or _pretend_ to sleep with - someone to do it!” 

Jefferson pulled out another magazine and flipped it to the cover page. “But look, Johnny!” Jefferson declared, pointing to a lovely red haired actress, posing at a premier, “ _This_ is what you could have on your arm! I know it’s not ideal, but it _would_ help.” 

"No," Gold said, standing up suddenly. "We’re done. Belle is taking me home, and I’m not going to listen to anymore nonsense about dating someone for publicity." 

Jeff rolled his eyes as the two of them left, annoyed at not making his friend understand the benefit. He agreed that it was wrong, but this was Hollywood, and morals had to take a backseat sometimes. Jeff threw down the magazine and pulled out a tumbler and a bottle of whiskey. He needed a drink. 

~000~

Gold was silent on the way home. Belle glanced back at him every few seconds, gnawing on her lip as she tried to think of something to say. At length, she said the only thing she could. “I’m sorry I got you in such a crappy situation.” 

Gold’s head snapped up, appalled. “This is most certainly not your fault,” he hissed, “It’s not your fault that I wanted to celebrate your birthday, and some piece of shit paparazzi decided to cash in on it. You have nothing to apologize for.” 

He sighed and slumped down into his seat. “I don’t know why I put up with this shit.” 

"Because you’re a brilliant actor who loves his craft," Belle offered, believing every word. Gold scoffed. 

"You say that because you’re paid to." 

Belle checked behind her, and when she saw it was clear, she hit the breaks, causing Gold to lurch forward. He glared and she smirked. “I get paid to drive you all over the city,” she corrected, “I’ve _always_ thought you were an amazing actor.” 

He said nothing for a long moment, then reached out and touched her shoulder, “Thank you, Belle.” 

She patted his hand, then kept driving. After a few more minutes of silence, Gold sighed. “Do you agree with me?” 

Belle blinked, “About what?” 

"Refusing to date someone for publicity." 

Belle bit at her lip again. Of course she didn’t want him dating anyone else. But was it selfish of her to prevent something that undoubtedly would help his career? She pondered for a moment, then smirked. 

"I don’t want you dating someone else, pretend or otherwise, because I don’t get paid enough to deal with you snogging some tart in the backseat of my car." 

Gold laughed outright at that, and Belle was glad she could ease his stress, even a little. 

"Don’t worry, dear," he said when he sobered, "You won’t have to share me with anyone."

Belle relaxed at his words. She risked a glance in her rear view mirror, and saw him offering her one of his rare, genuine smiles. “Good,” she said, trying to control her happiness at knowing she still had him to herself. “Because I don’t like sharing.”


	4. Worth It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There will be hell to pay, but Gold believes she's worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by queuingtocomplain on Tumblr: Someone accuses Driver!Belle of sleeping with Gold for personal gain. Gold is displeased. This displeasure may or may not involve a cane.

Belle sits in the driver’s seat, crying furiously as she clutches a magazine to her chest. She knows it’s just a rumor, she knows it’s just some gossip columnist doing their job to spread stories based on hardly any information. But it still hurts. It makes her feel dirty, and she hasn’t even done anything.

A moment later, the backdoor opens and Gold slides in, and Belle throws the magazine down, and tries to silence her crying so he won’t notice her. She has the advantage of having her back to him, so she hopes he won’t see.

Of course, with the way her luck has been going today, he notices almost instantly. “What’s wrong?” He asks, leaning forward. Belle shakes her head and starts the car, wanting to just get him to his interview and get home so she can curl up and mope. She feels horrible, and she knows Gold will find out eventually, but she doesn’t want to talk about it now. Not when he’s due for a live interview.

He leans over and picks up the magazine and Belle can do nothing about it as she’s trying to navigate the heavy traffic.

“Why do you read this trash?” He asks as he flips it open, “It’s nothing but lies and-“

He stops talking and Belle knows he’s seen the small article on page six that speculates whether she is sleeping with Gold in an effort to boost her own hopeful career. Gold growls and slams the magazine on the seat next to him. Belle holds her breath, waiting for an outburst of foul language and idle threats, but nothing comes. He’s silent, completely silent, and Belle can’t decide which is worse.

They arrive at the studio, and he storms out of the car, slamming the door hard behind him, leaving Belle to wonder if he’s angry at her for the article. She’s done nothing, she repeats over and over as she waits in the car, but she feels guilty nonetheless.

~000~

She drops him off at his penthouse, and rushes home. She puts on sweat pants and a large shirt, curls up on her couch, and flips the TV on. She mindlessly watches reality television for about four hours, then begins to channel surf, moving robotically and without purpose. She’s upset, at herself and at Gold for not doing anything about it. She doesn’t expect him to do much, but he hadn’t said a word, and she can’t understand why he had remained silent and distant.

She stands and wanders to the kitchen and fixes herself a packages of Ramen noodles, feeling too lazy to do anything that requires more effort. She returns to her seat and flips the channel once more, pausing on an entertainment channel, wondering if perhaps she’ll be mentioned. She’s just looking for trouble now, she thinks, but she can’t help but be curious. Instead of her, however, she sees John’s face plastered on the screen, a ‘breaking news’ logo flashing right above it.

_“Reports confirm that John Gold, most famous for his role in the cult classic ‘One Way Street’ has been arrested for assault. Not much is known at this time, but the Oscar nominated actor has been taken into custody for allegedly attacking gossip columnist Keith Woods, who, coincidentally published an article yesterday speculating on the actor’s relationship with his driver, Belle French. It has not been confirmed whether or not the assault was because of the article. Woods has been treated for minor injuries and released from the hospital. We’ll bring you more coverage as we learn it.”_

Belle stares at the TV, unable to believe her ears. Gold attacked the columnist who’d said those things about her? She bites her lip, appalled but secretly thrilled. A moment later, her phone rings and she dives for her phone, answering it as calmly as she can when she doesn’t recognize the number. She has a feeling she knows who it is.

“Hey,” the familiar, Scottish voice says. 

She smiles and says, “Need bail?”

He sighs. “It’s reached the front pages already, I take it?”

She stands and rushes to her room to pull on some jeans and a sweater. “It’s all over the TV.”

Gold sighs again and she grabs a hat and her largest pair of sunglasses. “Jeff’s going to kill you.”

“I’ll deal with him later,” he says softly, “I know you’re probably upset, but will you please come?”

“I’m on my way right now,” she promises, “How much is bail?”

“Five grand.”

“Damn,” she swears, “I’d demand a raise for covering your ass, but you just beat up a man to defend my honor and I honestly should probably kiss you instead.”

She realizes what she said, and hopes he doesn’t get upset. She’s relieved when he laughs. “That might not be the best idea at the moment, considering why I’m here,” he says.

“Probably not,” she agrees with a laugh, “But sit tight, Mr. Gold. I’m on my way.”

“Don’t call me tha-“

The line goes dead, and she frowns. His time limit expired, most likely. She shrugs and grabs her bag, before rushing to her car and speeding off to rescue her defender. There’s going to be hell to pay for this, she knows. Jefferson is going to have a fit, and Gold is going to have to make a public apology, and possibly pay a fine. And yet, when she makes bail and tells him all these things as she drives him back to her place, he merely shrugs and tells her she’s worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and the disclaimer.


	5. The Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle experiences the opportunity of a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> queuingtocomplain on Tumblr prompted: Driver’s Seat!verse: Belle needs cheering up, so Gold sneaks her on set as an extra.
> 
>  
> 
> _Takes place after the previous chapter. 'Dogwood Manor' is my fictional version of 'Downton Abbey"._

_“I’m_ supposed to drive _you_ , not the other way around,” Belle complained as she slumped in the backseat of the Rolls Royce. It was strange, sitting in the back, watching while John maneuvered his way through traffic to some mystery destination. 

"Yes, but if I let you drive, I’d have to tell you where we’re going, and that would spoil the surprise," he said as he exited the freeway. Belle rolled her eyes at him.

"What surprise could there possibly be at four in the morning?" She asked through a yawn. 

"You’ll see," John said as he pulled into a studio, stopping long enough to show the guard some papers he had in his breast pocket. Belle glanced out the window, eyes widening when she realized where they were. 

"Why are we here?" She asked, her voice squeaking in excitement. 

"You’ll see," John said as he parked the car and got out. Belle followed, wringing her hands together in nervous excitement. John led her through a side door, and up a narrow set of stairs. They reached a door that said ‘Extras’ on it, and Belle gasped. 

"What are we doing?" 

John knocked on the door, then glanced back at her. “Getting you to makeup.” 

Before she could answer, a pretty woman with short, dark hair opened the door and smiled pleasantly at Gold. “Good morning, John,” she said sweetly, then glanced at Belle. “This must be her. She’s lovely!” 

Belle looked from the woman to to John, who was smirking mischievously at her. “Indeed she is,” he agreed, before gesturing to the dark-haired woman in the doorway. “Belle,” he began, “This is Mary Margaret Blanchard, makeup artist for ‘Dogwood Manor’. She’s going to get you ready for your scene.” 

The color left Belle’s face completely as she gasped, “Scene?” 

Mary nodded, and reached out to take Belle’s hand. She smiled encouragingly and gently led Belle into the room full of bottles, cases of makeup, and other similar items. “Gold is a friend of my husband,” she explained as she sat Belle down.  
Belle stared at John through the mirror, mouth agape as she began putting together the pieces. Mary Margaret Blanchard was an Emmy-winning makeup artist, and wife of the executive producer of the hit period drama ‘Dogwood Manor’, Belle’s favorite television show ever. 

Mary Margaret pulled out a moisturizing wipe and began to gently dab Belle’s face. “I take it you’re surprised?” 

Belle nodded weakly and Mary giggled. Turning to John she said, “You probably shouldn’t have kept it so secret. Poor girl is pale as can be.” 

John said nothing, instead leaning against the wall and watching with clear amusement. Finally, Belle regained her voice and turned to face him. Mary let her be for the moment, using the opportunity to grab some brushes and other products. 

"I’m going to be on ‘Dogwood Manor’," she said, sounding numb. John nodded. 

"You are," he said, "As an extra, though. I tried to convince David for something a little more….central, but an extra was all he could promise. You’ll get to meet the cast, however." 

Belle’s eyes widened further, and she looked at Mary Margaret, who wrapped an arm around her comfortingly. Belle sagged against the woman and Mary spoke, her voice kind and soft, “It won’t be that bad, I promise,” she said, “I’ll be around all day touching everyone up, so if you get overwhelmed, just come find me and it’ll be all right. I can introduce you to everyone, or John can do it.” 

Belle nodded, then glanced up at John, grinning toothily. “Thank you,” she said, as she felt tears sting her eyes. John said nothing, instead reaching out to take her hand. 

"You deserve it," he said sincerely, "You deserve only the best." 

Belle flushed, then glanced back at Mary, who was waiting patiently. “Okay,” Belle said after taking a long breath and wiping her tears away, “Let’s make me up.” 

~000~

Belle stepped onto the set at precisely eight, looking around anxiously. She’d been instructed by one of the assistants to the director, and told where to go. She clutched the script in which she was labeled as ‘female guest number four’. She had no lines, but was meant to engage another extra in the background, and she felt ridiculously nervous. She took another breath, reminded herself to breathe and to be brave, and approached the woman in a green velvet dress and smiled. “I’m Belle,” she said, sticking out her hand. 

The other woman shook it and smiled, “You excited to be an extra?”

Belle nodded. “I am. It’s my first time.” The other girl nodded. “Me too! We can be a bundle of nerves together!”

They both laughed, then moved to their places, as instructed by the assistant. Belle looked over, past the blinding lights and equipement to see John standing next to a blond man, whom she could only assume was David. John glanced up and offered her a small smile, which Belle returned eagerly. 

They rehearsed the scene, then began to shoot. Belle and the other extras bonded during the resets, and by the end of the scene, she had made several friends. 

Eventually, the scene that required her wrapped, and Belle ran off set and straight to John, who pulled her into a hug. “Best acting I’ve ever seen,” he quipped and Belle smacked him on the arm. 

"I didn’t do anything." 

"Stole the show, if you ask me." 

The man beside him nodded. “I may have to kill off one of my main girls and replace her with you.” The man winked, and Belle smiled, feeling elated from the whole experience. 

"This is David, by the way," he said, nodding toward the man, "Mary’s husband." David held out his hand, but Belle, unable to resist, flung her arms around his neck, thanking him profusely for letting her be an extra. 

David laughed and hugged her back. “I’d do anything for John Gold,” he said, gesturing to the man beside him. “I’d have never gotten my start if it weren’t for him.” 

They shared a look, and Belle sensed there was a story there. She wanted to ask, but John pointed over to where the main cast were filing out to grab lunch. “Want to meet everyone?” He asked. Belle nodded eagerly, and Gold took her arm. “Well, then,” he asked, “Shall we?” 

Belle followed him over to where some of her favorite actors stood, unable to believe her good luck, and wondering just what she had done to deserve such an amazing gift.  
"Thank you," she whispered, as she held onto John’s arm. 

He patted her hand and murmured, "As I said, you deserve the best."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for disclaimer and story info.


	6. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle meets John's new costar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by queuingtocomplain on Tumblr: How about Belle is surprised to find herself jealous when the up and coming actress Zelena seems to be enjoying her kissing scenes with Gold a little too much?

"I thought it was a closed set?" Belle asked as she stumbled along behind John, who was practically pulling her with him. 

"It is," he acknowledged as he made his way to his dressing room. He entered, pulling Belle in with him and shut the door. He nodded curtly to his makeup artist, a woman Belle didn’t know, and sat in the chair. The woman began to work, and John looked at Belle pleadingly, "But I need you here." 

Belle sat on the extra chair in the room, which was reserved for one of John’s male costars. She watched in fascination as the woman worked. “Has something happened?” 

"Zelena Greene happened," the woman stated dully as she pulled out a brush and began to dab it in some concealer. John glared up at the woman, then turned his head to look at Belle. 

"Zelena happened," he repeated, grunting when the woman grabbed his chin and turned him around to face her. She began to move the brush over his face, and Belle stood and moved around to better watch the process.

"Your co-star?" Belle asked. She had never met Zelena, though she had seen pictures of her in magazines and on television. She was apparently a semi-decent actress, but found more pleasure in seducing her male co-stars. She was fame-crazed and apparently willing to do whatever it took to make it to the top. Belle had never been fond of her, and she had been even less thrilled when Gold had reluctantly agreed to star in a film with her. 

Apparently now he was regretting that decision too. 

"Yes," Gold growled, "She’s….horrible. Clingy, obnoxious. If it weren’t that I’m quite interested in the story, I’d drop out in heartbeat." He glared at the artist and added, "That doesn’t leave this room." 

The woman nodded, and continued with her work, seemingly uninterested in the hot gossip she was hearing. 

"So what does that have to do with me being here?" 

"I just….need you here," he sighed as the woman began putting the final touches on his makeup. "I have never had such difficulty staying in character and working with someone. She is an absolute distraction. And not in the good way." 

"Can someone be distracting in a good way?" Belle asked as she nodded approvingly at the makeup artist, who packed up her items and left. Gold turned and grabbed his costume and began to undress. Belle squeaked and turned around, ignoring John’s chuckle. 

"I forget you’re not used to all this," he said affectionately, then continued to change into the dress pants and shirt he was to wear for that day’s scene. 

"Sorry," Belle whispered, jumping when she felt hands on her shoulders. John turned her around and smiled at her. 

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he said as he adjusted his tie. "And I hope you don’t mind me dragging you here." 

"I’m your driver," Belle stated, as she had countless times before, "I go where you go." 

"Thank you, Belle." 

~000~

Zelena was a monster in Armani, Belle decided hotly. She was arrogant, obnoxious, had no issues making her intentions known. She flirted with everyone, including Gold, and Belle could see the aggravation on his face grow with every touch Zelena gave him. 

The scene was set up, everyone was placed, and the director called, “Action!” Gold began to act, and Belle found herself mesmerized by him. Every movement, every line was done with such precision. He melted into the character, and before Belle’s very eyes John Gold became Milton Harvey, the man who was trying to seduce a seemingly doe-eyed and innocent Anna Keane. 

And then the tension reached a peak in the scene and Belle’s eyes widened. One moment John was speaking, the next they were falling onto the bed, Zelena straddling him and kissing him with far too much ardor for someone who was supposed to be seduced. She looked like she was seducing him, and Belle felt her blood boil. Did this woman not know how to act? It was ridiculous, and she could tell, even from several feet away, that Gold was having a hard time not throwing the woman off him in disgust. 

"Cut!" 

The bell rang, and Zelena sat up, smirking down at Gold in satisfaction. She made no move to get off him, so Gold pushed her off, and she fell onto the bed with a laugh. “I like it when you get rough with me,” she purred, and John rolled his eyes. He stepped off set while the scene was reset and a makeup artist rushed over to reapply Zelena’s lipstick, which had mostly transferred onto Gold. 

John reached Belle, who was sitting in his chair, and she moved to stand. He held his hand up, silently telling her to stay seated, and braced his hands on the small arms of the chair. Belle reached up slowly and wiped at his mouth and his nose wrinkled in distaste. “Horrible,” he whispered, and Belle giggled. 

"Looks like she's seducing you,” she said softly and Gold grunted. 

"Feels like I’m being eaten alive." 

"Want me to go find some mouthwash? A mint? Some whiskey so you can get blackout drunk and forget?" 

"The latter, please." 

Belle stifled another laugh, thinking perhaps she might actually pick him up some whiskey on the way home. She glanced up to comment, but paused, her eyes widening as she saw something over John’s shoulder. Puzzled, he turned around, fighting the urge to groan as Zelena sauntered her way over. When she reached them, she draped her arms around Gold and sighed. “And who’s this?” 

John pried her hands off him, and gave Belle a dry look, as if to say, “You see what I have to put up with?” 

Belle reached her hand out politely, not feeling at all star struck as she had when meeting other peers’ of John’s. “I’m Belle French,” she said politely as Zelena took her hand with a sneer, “I’m John’s driver.” 

Zelena laughed, the sound dreadful and fake. “His _driver?_ " She gasped, laughing, "Then what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be, oh I don’t know," she said as she waved her hand around dramatically, "In the _car_? You’re distracting my poor Johnny and he can’t focus on the task at hand.” 

"I hardly think I’m the problem," Belle said with false sweetness. Zelena’s eyes narrowed, and she turned and shouted, "I want this woman off set! She is rude and distracting! She doesn’t have permission to be here!" 

A security guard approached, but John stepped in front of Belle and addressed both the man and Zelena. “ _I_ want her here. If she goes, I go too.” 

The man stood, looking back and forth between Zelena and John before shrugging and walking back to his post, clearly not paid enough to truly care about his job. John pointed over to the set where they were ready, and said, “Let’s get this scene over with, dearie.” 

He nodded at Belle, and walked over to the set and stood on his mark. Zelena paused, glared at Belle and hissed, “He’s too good for you.” 

Belle, who was usually careful with what she said around those John worked with, couldn’t help but bite back, “Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.” 

Sneering, Zelena whirled around and stormed back to her spot. When the director called ‘action’ again, she played her part with gusto, then melted into John’s arms as he pulled her close for their kiss, before dragging her onto the bed to sit astride him once more. A surge of jealousy flowed through Belle as she watched them, rising further as Zelena raised her head and glanced over at Belle with a wicked smirk.

Belle rolled her eyes, and told herself she wasn’t jealous. She paused at that reflection. Why would she be jealous? It was true she had a crush on John Gold, but that had always been the case. It was that silly, schoolgirl crush one had on their favorite celebrity, and never really meant anything. She’d always sighed and swooned over John Gold, and it had always been with the knowledge that she would never meet or know him. 

But now she did. He considered her his friend, and went out of his way to make her feel included in his life. He had no family to speak of, and so he spoiled her instead, using his connections to put her in the background of her favorite show and give her a front row seat to an otherwise closed set. She cared dearly for John Gold, and it was in that moment, watching as he made out with another woman on a bed, that she realized she no longer had that far-off celebrity crush on him anymore. She had a crush on him. Not the actor she used to have a poster of in her room, but of the man who walked with a brace on his leg and had more insecurities than money. 

She was falling for him, she realized with a start, and somehow it seemed even more unlikely that he would ever return those affections than when she’d watched him on her television. At least he hated Zelena, she thought with smug satisfaction. Even if he never wanted her, Belle could at least find comfort in the fact that he didn’t want Zelena either. It wasn’t much of a comfort, but she would take what she could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for info and disclaimer.


	7. A True Cinderella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold takes Belle to a movie premier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a couple months after "Jealousy".  
> No prompt.

“But I can’t go to the premier! I’m your driver!” 

John Gold rolled his eyes and looked at Belle, who was standing over him, absolutely raving in shock. Sighing, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop pacing around his living room. 

"Do you not want to go because you think you’re _just_ my driver, or because you don’t want to go?” She blinked and bit her lip, staring down at the ground. 

Ever since the incident on the set of ‘The Lesson,' Belle had felt somewhat inadequate. She was happy with her job and loved having John in her life, but the way Zelena had sneered and laughed at her position had only made Belle acutely aware of just who she was. 

"I don’t want to be the subject of more gossip," she said at length. It was true, but it wasn’t the main reason and she knew it. "I’m afraid you’re going to be accused of….I don’t know what. And I don’t want to be accused of trying to fuck my way to the top." She paused, and then sheepishly added, "And I don’t have anything to wear." 

Gold stood, careful of his brace, and pulled Belle into a hug and she relaxed instantly. He was a wonderful hugger, even if he didn’t give them out often. She loved being in his arms, and even if it was only ever like this, one friend comforting another, it was more than enough. 

"They will gossip no matter what," he said as he held her. "If I show up alone, it’ll be ‘why doesn’t he have a date?’ if I show up with _anyone_ they’ll wonder who she is or if we’re an ‘item’, as if that’s actually newsworthy.” 

He pulled away and smirked, “As for the dress,” he said, “I believe that can be easily taken care of.” 

Belle bit her lip, then added, feeling small and petty, “Zelena will be there.” 

Gold gave Belle a look, then understanding dawned in his eyes. “She will,” he agreed, “And will be annoying as ever.” He studied her for a moment, then said, “You don’t want to go because of her?” 

Belle shook her head. “That’s not entirely true,” she argued, “It’s just…she hates me.” 

John rolled his eyes, “If I showed up with Jefferson on my arm, she’d hate him too.” 

A laugh escaped Belle at the thought, and John nodded, “I thought that might help. Now, I asked _you_ if you wanted to join me for the premier. Don’t think about Zelena, or a dress, or anything. Just tell me if you want to go.” 

"If you want me there, then yes. Absolutely." 

"I wouldn’t have asked if I weren’t sure," he said, seeming relieved with her answer, "Besides, all that standing and walking around kills my leg. You can hold me up." 

"That I can," Belle agreed. "I still need a dress though. Nothing I have would be close to appropriate." 

Gold chuckled, then stepped around Belle. “Leave the dress to me,” he said, walking toward his office. 

"What are you, my fairy god mother?" Belle asked with a chuckle. Gold continued to walk, calling over his shoulder, "You tease, but wait until you see what I have up my sleeve." 

"Just make sure there’s no glass slippers," she called behind hm, "And I’m not driving a pumpkin!" 

His only response was to stick his arm out the door, middle finger pointing straight up. 

_~000~_

"I’m telling you, you look lovely!" Mary Margaret proclaimed as she put the finishing touches on Belle’s makeup. Gold had contacted Mary, who had in turn called in a favor from her friend, fashion designer Ruby Wolfe. Belle stood in front of a large mirror, staring with wide eyes at the daring number that had been selected for her. 

Ruby was a top designer, and many of the female elite would be wearing her at the premier. Belle had always been a fan herself, and it seemed unreal that she was standing in a one of a kind piece, hand selected by the designer. Mary put down her brush, and tilted Belle’s face up and around. “Okay, you’re even. And stunning.” 

Belle flushed, and looked at the mirror once more. The gown was black with a large swirling gold pattern in the front, and the irony wasn’t lost on her. It was held up by one strap, for which Belle was grateful, as the last thing she wanted was to fall out of her dress and embarrass herself in front of some of the most important people in Hollywood. There would be enough eyes on her tonight as it were. 

"You are amazing, Mary," Belle said as she turned and admired herself. Mary Margaret wasn’t a hair stylist by profession, but her work with hair rivaled her skill with makeup. Belle’s hair was swept to the side, a cascade of curls falling over her bare shoulder. She felt like an A-lister, and she as going to be on the arm on one of the most sophisticated and handsome men in Hollywood. She could hardly believe her luck. 

"Thank you," Mary said with a smile, before gently pulling Belle over to pick out her shoes. Ruby had sent several types, all outrageous heels that would leave Belle unsteady and towering over her company. In the end, she borrowed a pair of Mary’s shoes, a pair of black Gucci flats. She felt better knowing she would be steady for John, and with everything ready, Mary quickly finished dressing herself, and they made their way to meet their dates. 

Mary walked in first, and David greeted her with a smile and a peck on the cheek. Grinning, Mary instructed Gold to brace himself, then called for Belle to walk in. She did, flushing furiously as she saw John’s eyes widen. He looked astounded, and for a moment, Belle felt self-conscious. Perhaps it was too much? He was used to her wearing simple skirts and sundresses. Maybe he didn’t like the overdone, Hollywood look? 

But then, Mary was an advocate of natural beauty, using her skills to highlight one’s already lovely features. She hadn’t caked on the makeup like some starts insisted, and yet Belle worried that perhaps she was too overdone for John’s taste. He despised Zelena, who always looked far too made up, and Belle feared that perhaps he would see his handiwork and regret it. 

He approached her, and when he was close enough he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to it. 

"Not bad for a fairy godmother, hmm?" 

Belle laughed nervously and asked, “Do I look okay?” 

John took her hand and twirled her in a circle. When she faced him again, he nodded and said, “You look beautiful. A true Cinderella.” 

Belle flushed at his words, and looked down shyly. “Thank you,” She whispered. Gold slipped her arm through his, then glanced back at David and Mary. 

”Shall we?” 

_~000~_

The premier was loud, with actors and other Hollywood elite being escorted around by security through throngs of screaming fans, longing for just a glimpse in their direction. Gold seemed unfazed, if a bit annoyed by it all, and held out his hand to help Belle out of the Rolls Royce. They had hired out a temp driver for the evening, and Belle had felt absolutely out of place in the backseat of the car. She felt even more out of place now as she met eyes with people she’d once only dreamed of meeting. 

She took John’s arm to help keep him steady, and they followed the large, grumpy looking security man past fans shouting John’s name, and to the somewhat safer red carpet area. It was a large premier, or at least it seemed so to Belle. ‘The Lesson’ was already getting buzz, and Belle had hopes that it would do extremely well at the box office. She was biased, of course, but she adored John’s movies, and was excited to see this one, even if she would have to suffer Zelena’s horrid acting. 

They walked on, camera’s flashing every other second. It hit Belle that she would probably be talked about by some entertainment show’s fashion brigade, and she suddenly felt nervous over potentially ending up on some ‘fashion failure list’. She gripped John’s arm tighter, and he glanced at her. “Are you all right?” 

Belle nodded and took a breath. “I think it’s just hitting me that I am surrounded by famous people, in a designer gown, and my picture has probably been taken a hundred times already, and we’ve only been here five minutes.” 

Gold removed her arm from his, then wrapped his arm around her waist in a half hug. “Just smile, stand up straight, and stay with me. You’re doing splendidly.” 

"Easy for you to say. You’ve been attending these things for twenty years." 

John chuckled and led her over to a backdrop, where reporters were waiting for some posed photos. “It’s not ideal,” he said as they stood, allowing the reporters to snap pictures while yelling out questions about who the ‘mystery woman’ with him was, “But it’s part of it. Eventually you become numb to it all and just go through the motions.” 

Eventually Gold had to stop and engage reporters, speaking briefly about the film and his role. He was asked about Zelena, and he kept his answers short and as polite as possible. Next he had to take photos with the cast, and Belle stood off to the side with the other date’s as the group posed for photos, Zelena pressed tightly against Gold, smiling devilishly as she basked in the attention. She glanced over, eyes widening when she saw Belle, then scowled at her and moved on, looking for paparazzi to give her the attention Gold had refused her. 

John reached Belle, and sighed heavily, though he kept his face neutral, away of all the cameras, “After this I’m done with her,” he sighed, “Never thought I’d be so happy to be done with a shoot.” 

"She looked quite displeased to see me," Belle said, unable to keep from laughing. John wrapped his arm around her and led her forward. 

"Pay her no more mind," John whispered, "Let’s enjoy ourselves, hmm?" 

They moved on and made their way inside, and Belle sighed in relief as she realized it was much more calm and quiet in the theater. People were talking, of course, but the reporters were all outside, and so there was an ease in the room. She couldn’t spot Zelena either, and with that relief, she allowed herself to relax further. Even John seemed at ease here, and Belle knew he hated such large events. To know he wasn’t on edge helped her a great deal. Perhaps this evening would go better than she expected. 

They sat next to David and Mary Margaret, and Mary maneuvered so she was seated beside Belle, leaving her husband and John to talk business. The pixie-haired beauty squeezed Belle’s hand in excitement. “Everyone’s talking about you,” she said in a hushed voice, “You’ve made quite the impression.” 

Belle flushed, and Mary continued, “I’ve also overheard several women exclaim jealousy at your being on John’s arm.” Belle’s eyes widened in fear and Mary laughed, “If you’re worried about that red-headed witch, don’t worry. She’s awful, but everyone knows her game.” 

Belle nodded, then Mary leaned forward and whispered to Belle, “I couldn’t help but notice the way John’s been staring at you all night.” 

Belle blinked in shock, then glanced back, noticing with a blush that John was indeed looking at her. She turned back to Mary, who was grinning cheerfully and Belle resisted the urge to hide her head in her hands, lest she mess up the hard work Mary had put in on her face. 

"It’s nothing," Belle said at last, "He’s just not used to seeing me like this, that’s all." 

Mary arched an eyebrow, then stood to return to her seat, “Keep telling yourself that,” she said as she moved back to her seat. Gold stood and switched with her, sitting back beside Belle. 

"So what’s the latest gossip, then?" He asked. Belle rolled her eyes. 

"Apparently I’ve made an impression." 

"Well you _are_ the loveliest woman here,” he leaned close and whispered, “And that won’t change; not even when the clock strikes midnight.” 

Belle managed to squeak out a thank you, then glanced over to see Mary smirking at her knowingly. She winked, and this time Belle couldn’t resist hiding her face in her hands. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for info and disclaimer.


	8. Boredom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does one to when stuck in traffic to pass the time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous on Tumblr: stuck in the traffic they spend the time playing truth or dare

_Traffic reports indicate the wreck has closed all lanes, and are not expected to open for another two hours. Reports indicate there are several injuries, though it has not been confirmed if any are fatal. Please stay tuned for more information._

Belle switched the radio off, put the car in park, and sank in her seat. “Well, you heard the radio,” she said, “Looks like we won’t be getting home anytime soon.” 

Gold groaned, and swung so his bad leg was stretched out in the backseat. “Well, wake me when we start moving.” 

Belle turned around and glared at John. “Oh, no, you are _not_ going to sleep on me.” 

"I’ve been working all day."

"I don’t care. I’m not going to sit here in silence for over two hours." 

"Go to sleep, then." 

Belle rolled her eyes at him. “I’m the driver. I have to stay awake.” 

"Well, do your job, then, and let me sleep." 

"Loser," Belle said as she turned around to face front. She grabbed her phone, opening up an app and began scrolling though. She glanced up every few minutes or so to see if traffic had moved, and every time, much to her dismay, it hadn’t. 

At length, Belle sighed, and put her phone down. She switched on the radio, listened to the report on the wreck, and turned it off. They’d be here a while, that was for certain. She peered out the window, yawning as she thought about the fact that she should be home now, warming up a plate of leftovers and crashing on the couch. She was exhausted, as Gold had been due at several places today to talk about ‘The Lesson’ and Belle was tired of sitting in the car. She wanted to stretch out and relax, but until she got out of this traffic, she couldn’t. 

Suddenly, the passenger seat shot backwards, causing Belle to jump. She glanced back, amused and surprised to see John struggling to climb up from the back of the car to the front. He grunted, then collapsed into the seat, where he kicked off his shoes and propped his leg up on the dashboard. “There,” he said, “Better.” 

"Why didn’t you just get out of the car and come up here? Would have been easier." 

Gold shook his head. “We’re in traffic with nowhere to go, and you want me to step out of the car where anyone could see? I think not.” 

"True," Belle acknowledged. "I’m only paid to drive you, not protect your sorry ass." 

"My sorry ass pays you, so I’d be nice to it if I were you." 

Belle snickered, and Gold laughed, and they both glanced at each other with tired eyes. “It’s been a long day,” she stated and he nodded. 

"Too long." 

They sat in silence, and after a while, Gold flipped on the radio, searching through the stations until he found a station playing classical masterpieces. Sighing in contentment, Gold relaxed and turned his head to Belle. “Thank you.” 

Belle blinked, smiling at him even in her confusion. “For what?” 

"Being here." 

She said nothing in response, instead reaching out to take his hand in hers. She squeezed his, then let go, slouching further in her seat as they waited for any signs of movement. After another half hour, Belle huffed. 

"God, I’m so bored."

"I’m afraid I can’t help you." 

Belle was silent for a moment, then an idea struck. “Let’s play Truth or Dare!” 

"How does one play that in a car?" John asked, "We can’t _do_ anything.”

Belle’s excitement faded as quickly as it had come. “Right.” 

"We could play Twenty Questions instead." 

Belle clapped her hands in excitement, feeling foolish but too tired to care. “Brilliant!”

“Stupid,” Gold commented, though it had been his idea.

“As long as it keeps me awake, I don’t care.” 

Nodding in agreement, Gold started, “Fine. Favorite color?” 

"Gold." 

He shot her a dry look and she made a face. “I’m kidding. It’s blue. Yours?” 

"Black. Favorite movie?" 

"Lone Man." 

Gold groaned. “What?” Belle asked. 

"Out of everything I’ve done, out of every movie out there, _that’s_ your favorite?”

It was true that ‘Lone Man’ wasn’t John Gold’s best work, but it had been the first movie she’d seen with him in it. It had been the first time her heart fluttered at the sight of another, and Belle had been captivated by him the moment he’d appeared on the screen. “I like it,” she defended, “I think it’s lovely.” 

"I need to educate you on what a good movie is." 

"You hate musicals, Mr. Gold. So I’m not going to listen to you." 

Gold wrinkled his nose. “Everything you just said was upsetting.” 

Belle laughed and said, “Well, what’s your favorite movie, then?” 

"True Grit." 

"Ugh," was Belle’s response. Gold narrowed his eyes. 

"You like musicals and dislike John Wayne," he said distastefully, "Remind me why I keep you around." 

"Is that your next question? Only seventeen more to go." 

"Humor me, then. Why do I keep you around?" 

"Because I’m sweet, and an excellent driver, and adorable, and your bestest friend in the whole world."

John laughed, then patted her leg affectionately. “Well, I think that about covers it.” 

"Why _do_ you keep me around?” She asked, suddenly serious. Gold looked at her for a moment, then out the windshield. He was silent for a moment, then at last spoke. 

"Because you’re loyal," he said at last, "You’ve never been anything but kind to me. You don’t see me as….a celebrity. You value my work as an actor, but you don’t let it blind you to the truth." 

"And what’s the truth?" Belle asked softly. 

John glanced at her again, “That I’m just a man. And not a particularly nice one at that.” 

"You were difficult," Belle admitted, though it was hardly a secret, "But you just weren’t used to letting people in. You’re much nicer now." 

Gold smiled at her, squeezing her leg once more before moving his hand away. Belle caught it instinctively and wrapped their fingers together. “I used to be so in awe of you,” she admitted, “I don’t think you know how silly I was over you. It’s embarrassing to think about, really. But now that I know you, really know you, I find myself even more in awe, I think.” 

"Why?" 

"Because you’re a good man. And my dearest friend.”

"Belle-" 

The car behind them honked and they jumped, hands jerking apart. Belle glanced up to see traffic had begun to crawl forward, and she whooped in relief. “Well,” she said as she put the car into drive, “Looks like we can go home.”

“Thank God,” John grumbled. “What are you going to do when you get home?”

“Maybe watch a musical,” Belle teased. Gold grimaced and said, “Why don’t you just stay at my place. I can show you what a _good_ movie is.”

“If I watch one of yours, will you watch one of mine?”

He sighed heavily. “If I must.”

“I’ll turn you into a musical fan yet, Mr. Gold.”

Beside her, Gold shuddered. “I suppose there are worse fates.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer


	9. Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle catches another actor's eye, much to John's annoyance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by ladybugbear2 on Tumblr: Prompt for Driver’s Seat verse. Gold finds himself getting jealous when a young actor named Gaston (or any variation thereof) starts to show interest in Belle.
> 
> Takes place after "A True Cinderella"

“-No, I’m sorry, I don’t give that information out.”

Jeff rolled his eyes, then nodded and made a few ‘mm hmm’s’ in response to whatever was being said. “Yes, yes. I shall ask her and if she would like to return the call, I’ll give her your number. Yes, I have it. Caller ID and all that. Yes. No, thank _you_ , Mr. Knightly.”

Jeff hung up the phone, then rolled his eyes over to Gold. “It’s happening…” he teased in a sing-song voice. Gold glanced at him in annoyance.

“What?”

“The boys are starting to notice our little Belle.”

Gold fought to keep his reaction neutral, but Jefferson knew him far too well to be fooled. “Jealous?”

Gold shook his head. “Why would I be jealous?”

Leaning back in his chair, Jeff threw Gold a dry look. “Because we both know you fancy her. And it was only a matter of time before she started getting noticed.”

“Who was that?” Gold nodded toward the phone, purposely ignoring Jefferson’s comment.

Jeff giggled madly, sobering only when he saw Gold’s heated glare. “It was that young fellow off that show ‘Big City Blues’, Gaston Knightly. He’s hot right now, and apparently he saw Belle at the premier of your movie. Said she ‘was a vision in black’, and he wants nothing more than to show her a good time. He wanted her number.”

“Thank God you had the sense not to give it to him.”

“I may be mad, but I’m not stupid. Belle would kill me.”

Gold rolled his eyes. “I’d kill you.”

“She’d probably say yes, if you asked her out, you know.” Jeff said, pushing off with his foot and spinning around in his chair. Gold sighed as he watched his friend and manager act like a fool.

“We’re not discussing this,” he said tersely. “And she wouldn’t go out with that man-child anyway….would she?”

Jeff shrugged. “She’ll be here in and minute. Ask her.”

“I’m not asking her.”

“Asking who what?”

Both men looked up to see Belle in the doorway, carrying a tray of coffee cups. She placed one in front of Jeff, who stopped spinning in his chair to down the extra-shot-of- espresso drink. She handed another cup to John, then sat down at his side, sipping her cup of tea.

“Nothing,” John said, focusing on his cup.

“Actually,” Jeff said, causing both Belle and John to look up, the former curiously, the other enraged. “I was thinking about checking out ‘Big City Blues’, and was going to ask you if you’d seen it.”

Belle made a face of disgust and exclaimed, “Oh don’t bother,” she said, “I mean, it’s _okay_ , I guess, but I could only watch a few episodes before that lead guy…what’s his name? Gaston something, drove me nuts. He’s just so….annoying. I know it’s wrong to judge by looks-“

“We do it all the time, it’s okay,” Jeff interrupted dryly.

Belle made a face and continued, “It’s still wrong, but he just looks so….dumb…” she concluded, “Maybe he’s a nice guy, I don’t know, but I just could not stand him.” 

“Is that so?” Jeff asked, grinning mischievously. He shot Gold a look, but Gold was purposely avoiding his gaze. 

Belle shrugged, oblivious to what was occurring between her two friends, “Yeah,” she agreed, “It’s super petty of me I know, but I just like a man with a little more…mystery. And intelligence. He doesn’t seem to possess either of those traits.”

“How about maturity?” Jeff supplied and Gold’s eyes shot up to glare at him.

“How about we stop pestering Belle about her taste in men and get going?” John snapped, standing abruptly and heading toward the door. Belle glanced at Jeff who was reveling in the moment he’d created.

“Is he okay?” Belle whispered to her friend. Jeff shrugged.

“No idea. He’s a mysterious chap, isn’t he?”

Belle gave Jeff a dry look, suddenly understanding the situation. 

“Bye, Jeff.” She turned and walked out the door.

Jefferson waved, then threw his head back and laughed. “Those two make it so easy,” he declared aloud to his now empty office. “Far too easy, indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	10. Birthday Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold has the perfect surprise for Belle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by paradiceseeker on Tumblr: Diver’s Seat verse: Gold wants to do something very memorable for Belle’s birthday.
> 
> This fic takes place two days before the events in "Sharing".

It has to be spectacular. Gold has no idea what ‘it’ is going to be, but it has to absolutely be spectacular. He wants to wow her, and while part of it _is_ because he is attracted to her, she’s his friend first and foremost, and she deserves the best.

So he thinks long and hard, trying to figure out what to get a girl who is so easily appeased by the simplest of gestures. A book would be perfect, but she has an entire library of those, and he wants his gift to mean more than “I know you’re obsessed with this so I took the safe route and bought you what I knew you’d like.”

No, it has to _mean_ something this year. It has to be something she can look back on with the fondest of memories.

And then it hits him, plain as day, and he groans. The things he does for Belle French.

~000~

“You really don’t have to do this, Mr. Gold.”

Gold shakes his head in frustration. “How many times must I tell you not to call me that?”

“I think we’re at about two hundred twenty seven.”

John gives her a dry look. “You’re a real comedian. You should quit your day job and pursue a career in stand up.”

Belle giggles and turns at the red light, following Gold’s directions carefully. “I learn from the best.”

“If you mean me, then I may have to reconsider giving you your birthday gift.”

“You really don’t have to get me anything, John.”

Gold nods, pleased that she’d used his real name. “I know. Just let me spoil you.”

They park in a garage, and Gold leads Belle to a small, inconspicuous café about fifteen minutes away from downtown. Belle claps her hands together in delight and Gold feels satisfaction at seeing her so happy because of him. She thanks him about ten times before they even reach the door, and Gold thinks if she’s thrilled by a simple restaurant, then her actual gift is really going to go over extremely well. Gold bites back a sigh. _“It’s for Belle,”_ he repeats to himself. _“It’s for Belle.”_

They take a seat outside, as the weather is just right. It should be, Gold thinks as he pushes his hat down a little lower on his head: It’s Belle’s birthday, and if anyone deserves the perfect day, it’s her. He honestly doesn’t know what he’d do without her, with her bright smiles to light up the dark 4 AM casting calls. She provides coffee, advice, laughter, and the sincerest friendship Gold has ever known. Though he hasn’t had many close friendships, he’s smart enough to know that this is one he needs to hold on to with all his might.

They order and eat, Belle talking animatedly in between bites about one of the scripts Jefferson had presented Gold the day before. Gold nods at her comments, amazed at just how astute she is. She knows her literature, and has a good eye for scripts, so he’s learning. She’s quickly becoming a valuable asset when it comes to choosing roles, and Gold can’t help but wonder once more what he’d ever do without her.

It comes to desert, and they share a piece of molten chocolate cake. When they finish, Gold clears his throat and pulls out an envelope from the breast pocket of his jacket. Belle grins, but repeats her sentiment from earlier, “You didn’t have to-“

“Happy birthday, Belle,” Gold interrupts, holding out the envelope for her to take. She does, and holds it to her chest, thanking him sweetly without even knowing what it is. “Open it,” he encourages, needing to see her response.

She does, and pulls out two slips of paper. She stares at them, her hair falling in her face, which makes it hard for Gold to see. She doesn’t move for a long moment, and Gold is worried he’s made a mistake. “Belle?”

She looks up, tears in her eyes, but the smile on her face tells him everything he needs to know. “Y-you’re taking me to a musical?”

He nods, and Belle’s smile widens, as if his confirmation is more proof than the physical tickets in her hand. “On Broadway?”

Again, he nods. “Jeff is letting us use his private jet. We leave at one-thirty, we’ll arrive at six-thirty, change and go straight to the theatre.”

Belle’s lip quivers then, as she looks back down at the tickets. “I’ve never been to Broadway,” she whispers, then stands suddenly, and pulls him up with the hand not clutching the tickets. She hugs him, both arms wrapped tightly around his neck laughing and crying all at once. “Thank you so much,” she whispers, “This is a dream come true.”

“Anything for you, Belle,” Gold says, and returns the hug.

~000~

They leave the theatre late that night, Belle practically floating in elation. She’s in New York, she declares, with her dearest friend, and she’s just been to Broadway. “This is the best birthday _ever!_ ” She shouts into the bustling night, and Gold laughs as he watches her, the embodiment of gratitude and happiness. She is happy, as evidenced by the way she half dances-half skips down the streets of New York City, arm in arm with John Gold.

And John can’t help but share her enthusiasm. It’s hard not to be happy when Belle is happy. He’s made her day, and that is a gift in itself. He watches her as she talks about the production, and what she liked about it, which from the way she speaks, was literally everything.

And, Gold thinks, as Belle chats away, the musical honestly wasn’t _that_ bad.

But he’ll never tell her that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	11. Priorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is dedicated to his craft, but today he has other priorities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> queuingtocomplain on Tumblr prompted: Jeff and Gold get into a row after Gold skips a day of filming to look after a sick Belle.

When he hears a knock at his door, he knows something is wrong. Belle has a key, and unless it’s raining, she normally lets herself in when she arrives to pick him up. Gold peers out through the window, and frowns when he confirms that it isn’t raining.

He opens the door to find a young, jumpy, man waiting on the other side.

“Who the hell are you?” Gold asks grumpily, his morning source of coffee absent along with Belle. The young man rubs his arm nervously and manages to stammer out, “Mr….Jefferson called me, sir. Your regular driver is sick, so he asked me to drive you to set.”

“Belle’s sick?” Gold croaks out, horrified at the thought. The young man nodded.

“Yes, sir.” Waiting a beat, the boy adds, “We should probably go-“

Gold grabs his jacket and follows the young man to the elevator. They reach the ground floor, then walk to the car. The young man opens the backseat for Gold, who frowns at the thought of having some stranger drive him. After three years, Belle has become a staple in his life, and everything about this feels wrong. Gold slides into the back of the car, and debates on having the boy take him to Belle’s house. He can’t stand the thought of her sick and alone, but he has a full day of shooting ahead of him. He groans. He needs coffee. And Belle.

The car lurches forward and Gold bites his tongue to keep from snapping at the poor boy. It’s hardly his fault he’s been thrown into this situation. Shutting his eyes, Gold decides to think about his lines, and not about Belle, and just get through his day. He’ll visit her later tonight. Maybe he’ll call her when he’s on lunch.

That plan lasts all of five minutes, and suddenly Gold finds himself telling the young man to stop at the local pharmacy. The boy protests through stammering nervousness but Gold is persistent.

“I’ll get fired,” the boy says as a last resort.

“I’ll ensure nothing happens to you. Now do as I say and stop.”

The boy does as commanded and Gold tells him to wait in the car. He walks into the store, surprised he’s not the only customer at four AM. But he’s not, so he brushes his hair over his eyes, ducks his head, and rushes around the pharmacy with a basket, getting several types of medicines, Gatorade, canned soup, saltines, chocolate, tissues, and a small bouquet of flowers that are in a rather pathetic state, but it’s four in the morning, he’s sleep and caffeine deprived, and Belle is sick. He can’t be bothered to really think this plan through.

He pays for everything, then rushes back to the car before the cashier can truly recognize him. He then instructs the lad to drive to Belle’s address and the boy simply nods. Gold isn’t going to back down, and he’s not going to stop until he’s at Belle’s side, making sure she has everything she needs to get well.

The young man arrives at her address at a quarter til five, and Gold hands him a hundred. “For your trouble,” he says, then gets out of the car. He leans in to get the bags, and says, “If Jefferson says anything to you, I’ll handle it.”

The young man just nods, and when Gold taps on the car, the boy speeds off. He climbs the steps of the building and presses the buzzer that belongs to Belle. A few seconds later, her voice slips out of the speakers, sounding hoarse, tired, and grumpy.

“Who the hell is it?” She asks, and Gold can’t help but smile at just how similar she sounds to him. He’s rubbing off on her, apparently.

“Doctor Gold, at your service,” he teases and Belle gasps on the other end.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She cries as best she can. “You’re due at the set…” She apparently has to look to see what time it is, for the line goes silent. Then it crackles back to life as she yells, “ _In fifteen minutes!_ ”

“Yes, well, I decided there was something more important that required my attention,” he said simply. “You going to let me in or not? The other driver already left, so…”

He trails off, and a moment later the door opens. He slips in, and takes the elevator up to the third floor. By the time he gets to her door, it’s already open and she’s waiting on him. She looks miserable, he notices instantly, and yet somehow she’s as lovely as ever. Her nose is red, her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and her hair is flying in every possible direction. And yet she’s still his lovely Belle.

“You’re going to get fired,” she says as a greeting. Gold shrugs and gently pushes her inside, following after her and locking the door.

“There are other roles,” he says with a shrug.

“You’ll become known as a difficult or unreliable actor, and no one will hire you and it’ll be all my fault.”

Gold puts the bags down on the table and begins to remove the contents. “Really? All that from missing one day of shooting? Things really are different than when I started in this business.”

Belle smacks her hand on the table next to him, but he can tell the attempt is half-hearted at best. “I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

Gold turns, and wraps his hands around her shoulders. “You’re sick,” he says matter-of-fact, “And you’re my friend. I’ve spent my life dedicated to my work. If I get fired, then okay. I’ll find something else. It’s not the end of the world.”

“But it is just a stomach virus. Or the flu or something,” she sighs, “I don’t know. Everything hurts and I’ve thrown up like six times and my nose is running and I’m coughing,”

“And that’s why I’m here. Now you’re going to get your ass in bed and let me take care of you.”

Belle smiles, at last accepting the fact that he’s not going anywhere. She glances at the bag, and smiles, “Chocolate?”

“And flowers.”

“You’re spoiling me.”

“And you’re still not in bed.”

“If I weren’t sick, I’d say that sounds rather suggestive.”

He gives her a dry, sardonic look. “Go.”

Belle turns and returns to her bedroom. Gold pours her a glass of Gatorade and puts the flowers in a small vase he finds under the sink. He enters her room to see her propped up against a pillow. She smiles at him as he places both on her nightstand.

“Sleep,” he instructs, “I’ll be in the den. When you wake up, we’ll try some saltines, and if by lunch you’ve not thrown up, maybe you can have some chocolate.”

“At least I have motivation not to throw up,” Belle jokes before coughing. When the fit ceases, she groans and sinks down into the bed. “Okay, good night.”

He flicks off her lamp and goes into the den.

~000~

His phone ringing rouses him from an uncomfortable sleep. He answers it groggily, noticing that the sun has just started to peak above the skyscrapers outside the window.

“Where the bloody hell are you?!”

“’Morning, Jeff.”

“I swear to God, if you tell me you’re at Belle’s, I’m going to have a fit.”

“Have away, then.”

“Damn it, John!” Jefferson yelled, and Gold’s eyes widened. Jefferson _never_ called him by his given name. This was serious.

“What was I supposed to do?” John asked, annoyed. “She’s sick. She needs me.”

“The set needs you. Your co-stars need you! I got a call from the director asking me where her supporting man was, and when I call the sub driver, I’m told you forced him to take you somewhere else!”

“I should have called. I’m sorry. I’ll be on set tomorrow.”

“You need to be on set today!”

“I’m not going.”

Jeff groans on the other end of the line. “I’m not going to convince you otherwise on this, am I?”

“Tell them I got sick, if it helps.”

“That’s not the point,” Jefferson argues. Gold replies, “No, the point is Belle is sick and I’m going to take care of her. She’s my top priority, understood?”

It’s silent for a long moment, then Jefferson sighs. “Fine. I’ll work something out, you asshole.”

“Thank you, Jefferson. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“You better be,” Jefferson snaps. Gold goes to hang up, but Jefferson speaks again, “I swear, if you don’t end up marrying her by the end of all this, I will punch you in the fuckin’ face.”

“Bye, Jeff.”

Gold hangs up, rolling his eyes at Jeff’s comment. He stands and peeks into Belle’s room to see her sleeping peacefully. He goes back to his spot on the couch and reclines, mouthing his lines for practice. There’ll be hell to pay tomorrow when he arrives on set, he knows, but that’s trivial at this point. Belle needs him, and that’s what’s matters.


	12. Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold doesn't like talking about his personal life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt.

"-So I really enjoyed playing him, because I think, despite all his flaws, he really cared for Anna. It was a twisted relationship that I think worked well." 

The interviewer nods, and scribbles down his answer. Looking up, the woman says, “Well it certainly was an interesting film. I quite enjoyed it. Now, let’s talk about something I know a lot of people want to know: who was with you at the premier?” 

Gold has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He’s so sick of this question. He doesn’t regret taking Belle in the slightest - on the contrary, he’d had a wonderful time with her - but now no one seems to want to talk about the film. It’s all about his relationship with the mystery woman. Gold sighs, debating on whether to answer the question. So far he’s ignored it, but he can’t forever. He doesn’t want Belle to think he’s ashamed of her, because he isn’t. He wants to protect her from all this, though he supposes if he _really_ wanted to keep her safe, he wouldn’t have gotten so close to her. 

Hindsight, and all that. 

But it’s too late now, because Gold doesn’t want to give up what he has with her. He cares for her deeply, and values her more than she is probably aware. He’s half in love with her, he knows, but he’s long ago accepted the fact that he’ll never have that kind of love. It’s part of why he’s an actor: to experience things he’ll never have in real life. 

But that’s getting too psychological, and he needs to focus on the question at hand. He takes a moment, the interviewers eyes on him intently, looking for any hint of emotion. The public craves celebrity relationships, and though John Gold would rather die than be referred to as a celebrity, he knows the general public doesn’t put as much thought into the differences between terms like ‘actor’ and ‘celebrity’ as he does. To them it’s all the same. To Gold it’s an entirely different concept. 

"She’s a friend," Gold says at last. It’s not the _entire_ truth, but it’s truth enough. She may have started out as his driver, but she’s so much more than that. “My dearest friend. She’s my biggest supporter, and I wanted to share the evening with her. That’s all it was, and that’s all I have to say.” 

He can tell the interviewer wants to probe more, to find out when and how they met, how long they’ve been friends. She wants all the juicy details to share with her readers, but Gold isn’t having it. He’s said enough. He’s not going to share Belle with the public. She’s already been on the front page of tabloids and the subject of gossip columnists. It’s not fair to her, Gold thinks. Being his friend shouldn’t come with such a price. 

"She’s also your driver, isn’t she?" The woman asks, "The one you’re rumored to be dating?" 

Gold clenches his fist and tries to keep from snapping at the woman. She’s just doing her job, annoying as she is, and Gold knows Belle wouldn’t approve of him being mean. “I don’t like discussing my personal life,” he says diplomatically, “I’m a private person, and I value that privacy and the privacy of my friends and family greatly. I’ve said all I’m going to say on the subject, and I’d like to get back to discussing the film, which is why I’m here.” 

The woman’s eyes narrow, but she says nothing, knowing all too well that she’s lost any chance she had of being the one to crack the mystery of Gold and the Brunette. She’ll get no breaking news story today, Gold thinks as the woman dryly asks him about working with Zelena. She doesn’t care, he can see it in her eyes and hear it in her dull tone. She wants gossip; she wants to fill her article with sleazy goodness, because that’s what sells. 

Well, Gold isn’t new to all this. He knows how it works. And he’s not going to sell out his privacy for the sake of a few sales. His cover will come and go, and next month some celebrity who is more than willing to spill all their secrets for profit will come along, and he’ll be forgotten. It’s how he prefers it. 

He finishes the interview early and steps out of the room. Belle is in the lobby reading, her sun hat and large, black framed glasses disguising her well. She stands when Gold arrives, closing her book and sticking it in her large purse. “How’d it go?” She asks as she switches out the fake glasses for large framed sunglasses and they exit out the side door that leads directly to the private parking garage. 

"You were mentioned," he says simply. 

"Oh!" Belle exclaims, "The mystery woman at the premier is still creating buzz? I must have been quite incredible if they’re still talking about me two weeks after the fact." 

Gold chuckles and moves around to open the driver door for Belle. She peeks over her sunglasses and says with amusement, “I’m supposed to do that for you.” 

"Get in." 

She smiles at him, pats the hand that is resting on the edge of the door, and slides into the seat. Gold shuts it and moves to the back. When he’s settled, leg stretched out across the seat, Belle drives on. 

"I hope you didn’t say a lot," she says as she pulls onto the street, "I mean, I know you’re private and you’ve always been pretty quiet in interviews, but I still get nervous." 

"You’ve no need to be," Gold says assuredly, "I won’t expose you like that." 

"I know," Belle says, and her trust in him is always astounding, "I just get nervous is all. I don’t want the world to know who I am." 

"Neither do I." 

She giggles. “Then I think you chose the wrong profession, buddy.” 

Gold laughs as well. This is the kind of banter he loves. Here in the back seat of the car, he can talk freely and openly. He doesn’t have to weigh and evaluate what answer he’ll give, because the wrong thing will give too much away. The world reads into his words too much as it is. It’s one thing when critics and analysts pick apart the words he speaks as a character, but Gold himself is straightforward. He doesn’t speak in riddle or rhyme, not when the public is involved. He says what he means, and that’s all. He doesn’t want to talk about Belle, and so he doesn’t. There isn’t much more to it than that. If he’s going to express how much she means to him, he’ll tell it to her face, and not let her find out about it on page forty-seven of “Vanity Fair”. 

"I think I’m in the right profession," he replies, "I just want to be able to talk about my work and not have to avoid countless questions about whether or not I’m dating or when will I settle down? I’m here to act, not parade my private life on display." 

"Some people only care about your private life because there’s is so boring. They need excitement, adventure-" 

"Then go watch the bloody film I made instead of asking me if I’m dating my driver!" 

Belle glances at him through the rear view mirror. “Sounds like someone needs a coffee.” 

Gold rolls his eyes, but he’s far from annoyed. “I need coffee and for people to stop interfering in my personal affairs,” he grumbles. 

"I can only do one of those, so choose wisely," Belle instructs. Gold ‘hmms’ in thought, then answers, "I’ll settle for coffee." 

"Thank God," Belle laughs, "Because the other one requires far too much work. We’d have to shave your head, get you a new ID and fake your death. We’d have to frame Jefferson for the murder, which I don’t think he’d take well. Then there’s the move itself, and I hate packing. So coffee is probably best." 

"Why would you shave my head?" 

“ _That’s_ what your taking from that conversation?” 

"Jefferson will probably kill me one day anyway," he says nonchalantly, "Now why are we shaving my head?" 

"Because your hair is one of your trade marks. IMDB says so. If you keep it, someone will recognize you." 

"Dear Lord," Gold grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think I need something stronger than coffee at this point." 

"Still within my realm of abilities," Belle answers, "My place, a bottle of cheap whiskey?" 

"Sounds perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	13. Dream Realized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drunken conversation changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ctdg on Tumblr prompted: I don’t know what the occasion might be, but what about they get drunk together?
> 
> anonymous on Tumblr prompted: Their first kiss

Gold’s heart belongs to the stage. He misses it, the rush of performing in front of a live audience, the heart-pounding thrill of being engulfed in another’s emotions. It’s beautiful and wonderful and he misses it terribly.

The longing begins to nag at him, and soon it becomes a weight on his shoulders. He wants to be on stage; he wants to go back to his roots and relive the glory days he believes are far behind him. He wants to be Stanley Kowalski, Othello, Vanya, to name a few. He wants it more than anything: more than starring in films with pompous and obsessive actresses who want to fuck their way to fame. He detests such things, but he loves the art of film. It’s a conflict warring inside him, and it pulls and tugs and Gold knows if he doesn’t do something soon, he’s going to go mad. He longs for the stage, and it’s that thought that leads him to his liquor cabinet, where some top shelf whiskey waits to dull his overactive mind. 

Gold isn’t prone to drink. The majority of his ‘fancy, expensive alcohol’ as Belle calls it are gifts from snobby rich folks who like to give gifts that scream ‘look what I can afford to give you.’ Gold enjoys a drink now and then, especially if it’s with Belle because she’s a rather hilarious and adorable drunk, but he doesn’t often indulge in it. His father had indulged, and that was enough to make him want to swear off the stuff for life. But John Gold isn’t his father, and so he pulls the stopper out and pours himself a glass of his best whiskey.

He drinks it, then pours another. He’s not interested in savoring the taste, as the gifter had encouraged him to do. It’s just whiskey no matter how it’s decorated, Gold thinks, so he just gulps it down, the burn in his throat a better feeling than the war waging in his heart. He doesn’t drink often, and so it doesn’t take long for him to get buzzed.

If he can’t think clearly, then there’s no point in thinking, so he drinks another glass, and suddenly it seems like a good idea to call Belle. He grabs his phone and dials her number, and she picks up on the first ring.

"Yes, Mr. Gold?"

"Why am I here?" 

There’s a pause, then she responds, “Is this an existential question, or are you suddenly realizing your deep-seated hatred of L.A.?” 

There were too many big words for him to comprehend, so he just says, “Yes.” 

"Oh," she breathes, "You’re drunk." 

"No, I’m Mr. Gold."

"And you’re definitely drunk. Want me to come over?” 

He doesn’t know why, but that’s exactly what he wants. “Please.” 

"Okay, be there in a bit. Don’t drink anymore without me."

He agrees and hangs up. It’s a good plan, he thinks. It would be better to drink with someone else here. Misery loves company after all, he thinks, and company begets drinking. 

~000~

Belle arrives about half an hour later and lets herself in. Gold is seated on the couch, glass of whiskey in his hand. She notices it’s full, and wonders if he’s left it untouched in anticipation of her. She joins him on the couch without a word, and he hands her the glass.

"Cheers," he sighs, and Belle downs the glass in two large gulps. 

"This is the good stuff, isn’t it?" She asks and he nods. 

"Fancy, expensive whiskey," he states. Belle can see the slight humor that had taken him when he called has shifted to melancholy, and she wraps her arm around his shoulders.

"So what brought this about?" 

Gold sighs and leans his head on her shoulder. “I’m not….satisfied.” 

Belle freezes, her face flushing deeply as she thinks of all the possible meanings of what he just said. She leans over, and grabs the whiskey and drinks straight from the bottle. “What would….satisfy you?”

"The stage." 

Belle blinks. “What?” 

Gold sighs and repeats, “I miss the stage, Belle.” 

Belle knows from her days of being just a fan that he got his start on the stage. She knows from interviews that he’s mentioned his love of the stage and his desire to one day get back to it. She’s never known, however, just how deeply he longed to go back, and she can’t help but think that this isn’t his first time drowning his sorrows over the subject. 

Taking another swig, she passes the bottle to him. After he takes a drink, she pulls him into her arms and lets his head fall onto her shoulder. “I bet you were wonderful.” She doesn’t know how to console him, not really. They’re close, but she’s never seen him like this and she knows telling him to just ‘get back on the stage’ isn’t the answer. She’s certain he’s had that thought before. If only it were so easy. He’s stuck, and doesn’t know how to escape the path he’s lost himself on. Belle wishes she could help him. 

"I was great," Gold sighs, "Did some of my best acting back then. Probably shit at it now." 

"Don’t say that," Belle scolds gently, using the fact that he’s drunk to let herself run her fingers through his hair. If he asks, she’ll say it’s to comfort him, but really she just loves to touch his hair. Before, when she only saw him on her screen, her fingers had itched to touch his long strands of brown. Now she can, and she marvels at the streaks of gray she spots. It’s a lovely color on him she decides. 

"Probably true." 

Belle shushes him, and takes the bottle from him. She takes another drink, and feels the buzz starting. She leans forward and puts the bottle on the table. They’ve had enough, and one of them needs to keep their wits about them. Gold sighs against her, and Belle pushes him gently so he reclines on the couch. She follows and lays down beside him, and listens as he drunkenly begins to recount the glory of his days on the stage. 

 

~000~

He opens his eyes and instantly regrets it. Groaning, Gold throws his arm over his face, shielding his eyes from the sun peaking in past the curtains. His head is pounding, and he feels like absolute shit. He can’t remember what happened last night, but all he knows is that he regrets it. 

He hears movement in the kitchen, and peeks out from under his arm to see Belle approaching, cup of coffee, bottle of water, and a medicine bottle balanced in her hands. She puts everything down, and opens the bottle before turning and holding out the pill to John. 

"You might want this," she says with a smile and John takes it, sitting up wearily to pop the aspirin and drains the water Belle hands him. She gives him the coffee next, and he takes a huge gulp, sighing gratefully as the caffeine begins to invade his system. 

"What happened?" He asked, rubbing his hand over his face. Belle stands and goes to the kitchen, returning with her own cup of coffee. 

"You got drunk. You called me, and I came over and got drunk. We partied all over L.A., got hitched at this tacky little chapel, and you got my face tattooed on your ass." She clinked her mug against his, "Congrats, hubby." 

Gold groans. “Is it a decent portrait, at least?” 

"Could rival the Mona Lisa. We may need to put your ass on display in a museum." 

Gold laughs at the thought, then groans when the sound causes his head to throb. “I can only hope you’re joking.” 

"The first bit is true," she says, "You got drunk, called me, and I came over. I drank, but nowhere near as much as you." She pauses, then adds, "That last bit was true, too. You do have a nice ass." She winks. "And I’d know. I’ve seen it." 

Gold rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I know you have. Now, what really happened?”

"Nothing. We talked. Had a conversation about as good as two drunks can have." It’s not entirely true, but if not being on stage is why he felt the need to get drunk, reminding him of the fact is the last thing she wants to do right now. 

"I don’t remember calling you." 

"It’s okay," Belle says, patting his leg gently, "This is what friends are for." 

"Letting their drunk friend get an ass tattoo?" 

Belle laughs and takes a sip of coffee, “Something like that.” 

~000~

Two days later, John is called into Jeff’s office to look over some scripts. John doesn’t want to, but he knows he needs work. Perhaps if there’s a compelling script, it will allow him to put his focus entirely into something that isn’t the longing in his heart. He loves film; he loves his job despite many of its annoying and infuriating elements, but he can’t imagine doing anything else. He’s an actor, and he will perform until his days run out. 

He flips through a script, some generic action film, and glares at Jefferson, who is playing with a multicolored Slinky. “Really? Action hero?” 

Jeff shrugs. “I though you could use some variety.” 

"I could use a better manager." 

"That’s probably true," Jefferson agrees.

Rolling his eyes, Gold tosses that script aside and grabs another one. He blinks, thinking maybe that hangover has carried over until now, and looks again. He’s sober, and the script before him says exactly what he thinks it does. 

"This is a play," Gold comments, and Jeff glances over. 

"Yeah," he says, bouncing the Slinky up and down in his palms, "Belle called a couple days ago and said you’d mentioned wanting to get back onto the stage a bit. So I called your pal David and he contacted a friend who’s a director in New York. That one arrived this morning. When Abigail Midas - that’s the director, by the way - discovered it was you who was interested, she said you could have the part with only an informal audition. You’ll have to go to New York for a few months, but-" 

"I’ll do it." 

Jeff blinks, as if he’s surprised. “Yeah? You haven’t even read the script.” 

"It’s ‘Arcadia’, Jeff," Gold says, as if that should make his decision clear, "Of course I’ll do it." 

"So, you’re going to New York?" 

"Yes. I’m accepting the role." 

It’s all happening so fast, but it’s exactly what _needs_ to happen. Gold can hardly believe it as he and Jeff begin making plans for him to go to New York for his first stage production in twenty years. He’s sure he’s dreaming, but then he speaks to Abigail on the phone and she simply buzzes with excitement.

He’s going to be on stage again. After all this time, it’s finally happening. 

And he has Belle to thank. 

He can feel the longing in his heart already dwindling, the weight on his shoulders lifting, only to be replaced by the thrill and disbelief that he’s going home. It’s been a long time coming, he thinks as he and Jeff work on getting flights and hotel booked, and it’s the best feeling in the world. 

He meets Belle in the parking lot a few hours later, and she looks surprised to see him. “I was coming up,” she states, but Gold ignores the comment, sweeps her into his arms and kisses her hard on the lips. 

"Come to New York with me," he says the instant his mouth leave hers, and Belle is left stunned by everything that has just taken place. 

“W-what?” 

"Come with me to New York," he repeats and Belle stares curiously before understanding dawns. 

"You got a part."

“‘Arcadia’. It opens in a month.” 

Belle squeals in delight and flings herself into John’s awaiting arms. “That’s wonderful!” She declares, and Gold hugs her tightly. 

"Thank you Belle," he says with deepest sincerity when she pulls away from him. He’s never mentioned it to her before, except passing comments, and so he knows that in his drunken state he poured out his heart to her about longing to return to the theatre. He has no idea what he said, or what she said in return, but it doesn’t matter. Belle did something about it. She listened to him, and she took his dream and made it happen. _This_ is what friends are for, he thinks. And he has the dearest friend of all. 

He grips her shoulders and repeats his thanks. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” 

Belle pulls him to her once more and hugs him tightly. “Yes, I do.” She steps back and beams up at him, “And I’d _love_ to go to New York with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	14. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelena breaks into Gold’s house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tinuviel-undomiel on Tumblr prompted: Zelena has snuck into Gold’s apartment in an attempt to seduce him and Gold needs Belle’s help to get rid of her.
> 
> Takes place immediately after the events of "A True Cinderella".

Belle’s phone rings, and if it weren’t for the fact that it’s John’s ringtone, she’d ignore it. It’s late, and she’s _just_ walked in the door of her apartment after dropping John off at his townhouse. She’s exhausted, still dressed in her Ruby Wolfe gown, and though the thought of staying up late talking to John is a thrilling one, she wishes for once he could be normal, and just let her sleep. 

She answers the phone and says teasingly, “You just can’t get enough of me, can you?” 

"Help me," his voice says in a hushed tone. 

Belle’s stomach plummets and her purse and keys are in hand in an instant. “What’s wrong?” She asks, locking her door and rushing to the elevator. She can think of a hundred horrible things, and each one fills her with dread. Was he in danger? 

"Zelena is here," he says urgently, "I’ve locked myself in the bathroom." 

Belle stops mid-stride. “What?”

"Zelena. Is. Here." he repeats, "I’ve no idea how, but she got in. She was in my bedroom. I’ve locked myself in the bathroom. You have _got_ to get over here and help me.” 

Belle resumes her fast paced rush to her car. “Have you called the cops?” She asks, sliding in and starting the engine, “They can get her for B & E.” 

"And have this all over the news?" Gold scoffs, "No thank you. Just get over here." 

"What the hell am I even supposed to do?" Belle asks desperately.

"I don’t know," Gold says, exasperated, "But I need you to do something." 

"Well, I’m on my way," Belle says, "Just….stay put." 

"What else am I going to do?" He snaps quietly. 

"Leave the bathroom and face whatever kinky fate Zelena has in store for you?" 

"I hate you." 

Belle giggles, “If those are your last words to me, I’m going to be upset.” 

Gold sighs. “Please hurry.”

"I’m coming, John," she says sincerely, "Don’t worry."

"Hurry." He sounds desperate, and Belle can’t blame him. That insane woman has broken into his home and tried to do God knows what. Belle hangs up and thinks for a moment. There has to be a way to get Zelena out of Gold’s home without alerting the media. 

Then an idea hits her, and she makes another call. 

~000~

Belle opens the door to John’s place, biting her lip nervously. Her backup is on the way, and all she has to do is keep the woman distracted for about five minutes. She hears Zelena speaking to Gold in a sickly sweet voice and Belle feels her blood boil. This woman is proving to be a _real_ nuisance.

Belle steps into Gold’s room, where Zelena is standing at the closed bathroom door, encouraging John to come out. 

"Don’t play hard to get, dearest," Zelena teases, "It’s not becoming on you." 

"And crazy stalker isn’t becoming on you," Belle snaps, causing Zelena to whirl around. 

"How did you get in?" The red-haired woman asks, shocked. Belle gives her a dry look. 

“ _You’re_ asking that question?” She asks and Zelena snarls. 

"This is none of your business, _driver_ ,” she comments, her words slightly slurred, then turns around to the bathroom door and purrs, “Why don’t you let me in, Johnny? I’m sure we could find plenty of fun things to do in the shower.” 

That provides Belle with a whole array of terrible images and that’s enough to set her into action. She is more than fed up with this pompous actress who thinks she can get whatever she wants just by demanding it. 

"You need to leave," Belle says firmly, and Zelena turns around, laughing devilishly. She steps forward, and when she’s close enough Belle can smell the alcohol on her breath. 

"You think you actually deserve him?" Zelena hisses, leaning in close, her breath making Belle’s nose curl. She tries to take a step back, but Zelena grabs her arm. "You can’t tell me what to do. You have no idea who you’re dealing with. I could destroy you-" 

Belle’s fist connects with Zelena’s face, and the woman cries out before falling to the ground, unconscious. Belle gasps, both hands flying up to cover her mouth as she realizes what she’s just done. 

"Oh shit, oh no! Oh God!" 

The door unlocks and Gold peeks out of the crack. He glances down to see Zelena on the floor, then back up at Belle, who looks utterly horrified. “Belle?” 

A moment later a man enters the bedroom, and Gold’s eyes widen. Belle glances behind her, and sighs in relief. “Thank God.” 

The man looks from Belle, to Gold, to Zelena on the floor, then back to Belle. “What did you do, Blue Belle?” 

"I panicked," Belle admits shamefully. The man laughs. 

"Well, at least she’ll be easier to carry." He bends down to pick up the unconscious Zelena, wincing when he sees her face. "Ouch. She’ll feel that tomorrow." 

"She’s going to kill me," Belle says with a groan. Gold steps out of the bathroom silently, watching the exchange.

"Nah, Blue Belle. I got this. She’ll never remember coming here. It’ll be our secret." 

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Gold says finally, unable to keep silent. He’s had enough of strange people just entering his home, and he wants an explanation.

"Oh, where are my manners," the man says, looking ridiculous as he holds out his hand while balancing an unconscious woman over his shoulder. "My name’s Graham. I work for a local security agency. We specialize in cases like this." He glances back at Belle and smiles, "I’ve known Belle for quite a while. She’s a sweet one, isn’t she?" He shrugs his shoulder, causing Zelena to flop against him, "Packs quite a mean punch though." 

Gold nods, totally confused by the whole situation. “Yes,” he agrees lamely, “I’m John, by the way.” 

Graham nods. “Oh, I know. Belle’s a huge fan.” 

"Graham!" Belle hisses and the man laughs.

"Well, it’s been fun, but I need to get this taken care of." He turns around and nods at Belle, who smiles at him. 

"You sure this is okay?" 

Graham nods. “She’ll wake up in her apartment safe and sound and in need of some painkillers.” 

Belle thanks him again, and Graham leaves. Belle follows him out and locks the door, then turns, jumping in surprise to see Gold in front of her. 

"What the hell was all that?" He asks. Belle takes his hand and leads him to the couch to sit before disappearing a moment. She returns with a bottle of scotch and two glasses. She hands one to Gold then pours. 

"That was Graham," she says simply, "We met in college. He works in security, and does what he likes to call ‘taking out the trash’. He helps celebs not be totally ruined by some of their less than wholesome actions." She takes a sip of scotch and adds, "Turns out he’s also known Mary Margaret for a while, so we have that connection, too. Small world, huh?" 

"My crazy ex-costar breaks into my apartment after our premier with plans to seduce me and my seemingly innocent little driver has connections to a security agency that specializes in shady clean ups," He takes the bottle and fills his glass to the rim. "I’m going to need more alcohol.” 

"I didn’t know who else to call," Belle defends after a moment. "I panicked." 

Gold glances at her. “Well, you’re apparently bloody brilliant when you panic,” he comments after a moment, “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	15. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary and Belle have news for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt. 
> 
> Takes place a day or so after "Dream Realized".

Belle sits at the table, tapping her foot impatiently. She’s due to meet Mary Margaret for lunch to share the exciting news of her upcoming trip, but the tiny makeup artist is nowhere to be seen. Belle glances at her phone and while there’s no message from Mary, there is one from John. Belle smiles at his wish for her to have a good lunch and promises to bring him back a piece of cake. When she’s finished, she puts the phone down and looks up, smiling when she spots Mary Margaret, donning a similar large sun hat and sunglasses. It’s almost amusing, having to wear disguises just to go out for lunch with a friend.

Belle stands and hugs Mary, who looks radiant and brimming with excitement even behind the glasses. Belle gives her a puzzled look and they sit. “You look like you have news, too,” Belle says curiously, and Mary nods eagerly before ordering a sweet tea and a large salad.

"I do," she acknowledges, "But you called me with news, so I think you deserve the honor of going first."

"No," Belle shakes her head, "My news is exiting, but you look like you’re about to burst. What’s going on?"

Mary hesitates, then glances around. No one is paying them any mind, and so she reaches out to grab Belle’s hands and says in a soft but exciting voice, “I’m pregnant.”

Belle squeals in delight, throwing a hand over her mouth when she draws stares, then bounces in her seat. “Em!” She declares, careful to keep her voice low, “That’s incredible! Does David know?”

Mary nods. “Why do you think I was late? We were celebrating.”

Belle’s nose crinkles, “A little too much info there, Em.”

The other woman laughs. “I’m sorry,” she says, “But we’re just so happy. We’ve been trying for a year now, and now it’s…Oh, Belle I’m so excited!” Mary says, and this time she bounces in her seat. She stops, and grabs her stomach. “I shouldn’t do that. I’m a little sensitive.”

Belle grins, and claps her hands together in excitement. “I am so happy for you, Mary,” Belle says with a large grin, “How far along are you?”

"About seven weeks," Mary says, "I can’t wait to find out what it is."

"What do you want?"

Mary shrugs. “I’m not sure. David’s mother once told me she had a dream that I would have a little girl, and that always stuck with me. But as long as it’s healthy and doesn’t get into the Hollywood business _at all_ , I’ll be okay.”

They laugh at the joke, both understanding in their own ways just how taxing their lives are, despite the glamor that is flaunted and coveted.

"Well, we’ll have to have a huge shower," Belle says, her mind already churning with ideas, "Lots of games, and _lots_ of food.”

"I’m _all_ about food these days,” Mary says, and Belle has a hard time imagining the petite pixie of a woman in front of her eating more than a few dainty bites. It’ll be a sight to see, Mary Margaret eating for two.

"Okay, so I’m good now. What’s your news, now that I’ve totally stolen the spotlight," Mary says, turning her attention to Belle. She looks lovely, even under the disguise. Motherhood has already settled in on Mary, and she looks wonderful: glowing, satisfied, and extremely happy. Belle is thrilled for her friend, and hopes someday that she’ll have a love like Mary and David.

"Well," Belle begins, "It’s nothing so exciting as Baby, but John got a role in a play, and he asked me to go with him. To New York. For three months."

Mary’s eyebrow arches over the sunglasses, and her smile is positively smug. “I _knew_ it.”

Belle blinks. “Knew what?”

Sighing, Mary takes Belle’s hand, “Belle, he is _so_ in love with you.”

"Wh-what? No. No he’s not," Belle stammers before asking, "Is he?"

Mary nods, then thanks the waiter for bringing their food. “Of course he is,” Mary says as she takes a bite. “David has known him for a long time. John is the reason David and I are together,” Mary informs her, “So he’s been presence in my life for a while, though he’s much closer to David. But, John has never been really super close to people. Even David’s kept at a distance. You’re the first person he’s ever really let in that I know of. You know him better than anyone.” 

Mary sits back, continues, “Taking you to New York for your birthday is fine; it was special, and probably meant more than what you think, but it was a gift, so you can tell yourself it meant nothing. But he has no reason to take you to New York now, at least as far as your job goes. He won’t need you up there.”

She takes off her sunglasses, and motions for Belle to do the same. She does, and Mary leans close, eyes locked on Belle’s, “He’s taking you to New York because he _wants_ you there. With him. He’s falling in love with you, Belle. And New York may be your chance to change everything.”

Belle doesn’t know what to say. She’s spent years pining after Gold, but that had been a silly girl fawning over an actor. This was different. She’s known for a while now that her feelings for Gold are completely genuine, and the love she had for him as a college girl watching his movies over and over has shifted into genuine love for him as a person. But she’s his friend, first and foremost, and his employee second. She’s comfortable with what they have; she could remain his friend and driver for the rest of her life and would be satisfied. But she can’t help but wonder if Mary is onto something. He _kissed_ her when he got the part. He asked her to go to New York. He tells her everything, and takes her to premiers and protects her and let’s her boss him around.

She’s so afraid of the possibility of more, even though it’s everything she’s ever wanted.

"Maybe," Belle shrugs, trying to play it cool, "It could be that he just wants a friend there so he doesn’t get lonely."

Mary gives Belle a dry look. “Keep telling yourself that,” Mary says, “But I bet a pair of Jimmy Choo’s that you come back his girlfriend.” 

Belle doesn’t know what to say to that, so she takes a bite of her sandwich and wonders if Mary might be right.


	16. Makeshift Dressing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re running late. Gold improvises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> grapemartini from Tumblr prompted: Due to an unexpected traffic delay, Gold has to change clothes in the backseat. Belle tries really hard not to look…
> 
> This takes place about a year after Belle starts working for Gold.

John Gold likes to wear suits. Unless he’s going incognito and wants to be unrecognized, he’s dressed in a three-piece, elegant and suave in a world full of disastrous fashion risks. He cares about his appearance, and takes inspiration from the Hollywood stars of old. Suits, pristine, well-fitted, and sharp. He looks ever the professional, and it’s something that Belle admires greatly.

In films, he wears whatever is called for his character. In press events, premiers, and interviews, he wears suits. Belle recalls seeing a few candid shots of him in dark dress pants and a rolled up button up, but he’d been in the middle of an airport. He can’t be perfect all the time.

The only other time he doesn’t wear a suit, Belle has learned in the year she’s been his driver, is when he goes to an audition. He dresses more simply, in clothing that is just as sharp, but cooler, and easier to move in. He’s more casual when he auditions, but the moment he’s done, he’s back in a suit.

They’re on their way to an audition, Gold in the back in a three-piece Armani. It’s far too hot for so much clothing, Belle thinks, but she supposes that’s why air conditioning is such a wonderful invention. He can wear his layers upon layers and not suffer. As for her, she prefers sundresses and skirts, the heat of L.A. nothing compared to that of Australia, but that doesn’t mean she has to suffer.

They’re making good time, Belle thinks. They’ll have plenty of time to get to the studio so he can change and have time to prepare himself mentally for his audition. He likes to be focused, prepared, and she’s learned in her short time with him just how to make sure all that happens. 

But then she sees the traffic slow to a crawl, and groans. “Mr. Gold,” she starts, knowing he hates the name but wanting to show respect, “I think we’re in trouble.” 

Gold looks forward, out the tinted window curses.

"I’m sorry," Belle says, looking at him through the rear view mirror. Gold shrugs.

"It’s hardly your fault," he says, reclining back to stare out the window. They’ll be late at this point, he realizes. He won’t have time to change and prepare, and he has no desire to do his audition in a suit. 

He glances over at the duffle bag sitting in the floorboard, and an idea strikes. He can just change now, and when they arrive, he’ll find a quiet room and prepare. It’s not ideal, especially with his leg, but there’s nothing to be done about it, so he pulls off his tie and grabs the bag. 

Belle hears the rustling in the back and glances behind her to see what Gold is doing. She’s greeted with the sight of his naked chest and she squeaks, turning back around to face the front.

"What?" Gold asks. Belle glances behind her just as he’s slipping off his pants. Her eyes shoot up to meet his face. 

“What are you doing?”

"I’m changing," Gold says, folding up the pants carefully and laying them beside him. He glances up at Belle, looking bemused as he sits there in his boxer briefs and socks. "What? It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked." He knows she’s seen all his films, and he has bared all for the screen more than once. 

Belle’s cheeks get hotter and she turns to face the front. “That was in a movie,” she defends, “That’s different.”

Gold buttons up the casual white shirt he’s pulled out of the bag. “Oh?” He asks, “Explain.”

"You weren’t you," Belle says, her voice shrill, "You were your character. It’s different."

"I hardly think so," Gold says, lifting his hips to pull the pants on and tucking in the shirt. "All the same parts are there, just in the….flesh."

"Please shut up," Belle says, her head buried in her hands. As an afterthought, she adds, "You could have at least warned me."

"And miss that look on your face?" Gold says with a laugh as he fastens his belt, "I think not."

He adjusts the sleeves of his shirt, then says, “I’m decent.”

Belle glances at him through the mirror, and Gold can see her cheeks are till blood red. “If you ever do that again, I’ll hurt you,” she says as she begins to drive forward. They’ll be cutting it close, but the delay seems to be ending almost as quickly as it began, and Belle has never been happier. 

She can’t handle a naked John Gold in her car. It’s just not possible. She’d barely been able to contain her excitement when she learned he’d starred in a film in which he was completely nude, but that was indeed different. When he was just a character on the screen, he had no way of seeing how his physical appearance (and lack of clothing) made her react. But now he’s seen her, and she knows she’ll probably never live this down.


	17. Plan of Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson has a plan to ensure John and Belle get together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous from Tumblr prompted: Gold wants to kiss Belle again but doesn’t know how.
> 
> Anonymous from Tumblr prompted:Jeff joins forces with Mary Margaret tries to get Gold and Belle to realize their feelings for each other.
> 
> This takes place at the same time as "News".

Gold smiles at the text Belle sends him. The promise of cake also includes a promise of seeing her later, and Gold can’t think of anything better than time spent with Belle. He’s relieved she isn’t upset for what he did the other day, even though a part of him wishes she would bring up the kiss. He’s too much of a coward to do it, and needs Belle to take the lead. He was foolish enough to actually _do_ it; he can’t broach the subject. It’s too much.

He glances up to see Jeff giving him a strange look, and frowns. “What?”

Jeff shakes his head, “You just look awfully pensive for a guy who’s going to New York for a two month stint on stage.”

Gold thinks for a moment, debating on whether to confide in his friend. Jeff is crazy, eccentric, and infuriating at times, but other than Belle, he’s Gold’s closest friend. And he needs to do something, because he’s about to burst.

"I kissed Belle."

Jeff’s eyes grow unusually round, and he stares at John with disbelief. “No! Johnny!”

Gold cringes at the name, but decides to let it go. “Yeah,” he sighs, “I have no idea what I was thinking.”

Jeff jumps out of his chair and runs the short distance to sit on the table in front of John. “What happened?” He asks. “Give me the details!”

Gold gives him an annoyed look, but begins. He needs to tell someone, because if Belle won’t talk about it, then who else can he talk to?

"I went downstairs to meet her," Gold says and Jefferson nods knowingly. He remembers three days ago John claiming he couldn’t wait another moment to thank Belle and had rushed out of the office. "She was just getting out of the car. I….just walked up and kissed her."

"Damn," Jefferson mutters, but let’s John continue.

"After that I asked her to come to New York with me."

"Just like that?" Jeff says, "You kissed her, asked her, and she said yes."

Gold nods. “Just like that. She realized what had happened and hugged me and said she’d go.”

"But what did she _actually_ say,” Jeff asks, leaning forward, “The simplest phrase can have a thousand meanings.”

"She said she’d love to go with me," Gold shrugs. "But she hasn’t mentioned it since then."

"The trip or the kiss?"

"Oh she hasn’t stopped talking about the trip. But she hasn’t mentioned the other thing."

Jeff taps his finger to his chin for a moment, then states thoughtfully, “She’s probably afraid you didn’t mean it.”

"Why would I do something I don’t mean?" Gold asks, "That’s preposterous."

"You’re an actor, Johnny boy," Jeff reminds him, "You get paid to say things you don’t mean, love people you can’t stand, _be_ someone else entirely. She’s probably afraid you’re just grateful.”

"I _am_ grateful,” Gold defends, not understanding. Jeff sighs.

"But is that _all_ you are? _Why_ did you kiss her?”

Gold thinks for a moment. He has no idea what possessed him to kiss her, but he can’t bring himself to regret it. At length he sighs, “I’ve no idea. It felt like the right thing to do.”

Chuckling, Jeff leans back and looks Gold up and down. “You two have it _bad_.”

“What do you mean ‘we have it bad’?”

"You two are absolutely crazy for each other!" Jeff declares, waving his arms dramatically, "How can you not see it?"

"Because she’s just a friend," Gold argues, "She’ll never see me as anything else."

Jeff opens his mouth to protest, then raises a finger instead. He bows his head, then lifts it back up, looking at Gold more seriously than he ever has before. “John,” Jeff says softly, “I’ve known Belle a while. You didn’t know her in college. But I did. She was never into guys, or dating or anything. She studied and worked. I spent time with her a lot, and I watched a lot of guys - well, not a lot, but you get my point. Anyway, several guys approach her, only to be shot down because she just wasn’t interested. You know who she shows interest in? You.”

"I find that incredibly hard to believe," John whispers despairingly. Jeff reaches out to pat his leg.

"She agreed to go with you, didn’t she?" 

Gold nods. Jeff grins.

"Then clearly she’s interested."

John sits for a moment, contemplating everything Jeff has said. “So what do I do?”

"Tell her how you feel."

"What _else_ can I do?”

Jeff shrugs. “Kiss her again.”

Gold’s face reddens, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" Jeff asks, "Clearly she liked it. She’s going to New York with you."

"Because I’m a coward," John says at length, "And I don’t know how to go about it again."

Jeff leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. “We gotta think of something, then.” 

Gold’s brow arches. “We do?”

"Yep," Jeff says, "You’re not coming back from New York unless you kiss her again."

Gold opens his mouth to question how exactly Jeff will make that happen, but Jefferson jumps up, and Gold can practically see the light bulb flicker to life in his mind. “Got it!” He cries triumphantly. 

Gold sits back, prepared for a wild tale. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

"The play."

"What?" John blinks. Jeff continues.

"It’s perfect," Jeff declares, "You’re that professor guy, and since I actually read the play - you should be proud of me, by the way - I know for a fact you have a kissing scene. Use it!"

"Belle isn’t in the play, you imbecile," John states dryly, "How am I supposed to kiss Belle if-" He trails off, and looks up at Jeff as the realization dawns on him. "You want me to ask Belle to rehearse lines, and use _that_ scene as an excuse.”

"Yes!" Jefferson says, clapping his hands together and jumping up and down. "Ladies and gentlemen, John Gold finally gets it!"

"You realize how clichéd that is, yes?"

Jeff shrugs. “If it works, who bloody cares?”

Gold shakes his head in disbelief at the fact that not only does it seem like a halfway decent idea, but at the fact that he’s actually considering it. It could work, if he’s careful. It will take some planning, but he thinks he can pull it off. And, since will be under the guise of a rehearsal, if things go wrong, he can play it off as trying something with his character. She’ll understand; she’s watched him rehearse and study parts for over three years now. She knows how he works.

"All right," Gold sighs, "I’ll give it a shot."

Jefferson cheers in delight, and Gold buries his head in his hands. “What am I getting myself into?” He asks, but Jeff is too busy celebrating to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	18. Nothing to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelena wakes up the morning after her drunken escapade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous on Tumblr prompted: Soo…exactly how much did Zelena remember last night in the Panic prompt? Did Belle leave her mark?
> 
> Takes place the morning after the events of "Panic".

Zelena groans, opening her eyes to a blur of orange, red and yellow. She blinks in confusion and moves, wincing as pain shoots through her skull. She’s lying on the floor of her living room, on top of her newly acquired Persian rug. She sits up, pressing a hand to her head, only to jerk it away as another jolt of pain leaves her howling. 

She takes a moment, once the pain dulls to a throbbing ache, to assess the situation. She’s on the floor, next to her coffee table and her head is pounding. There’s a turned over, empty bottle of vodka, as well as a half-empty bottle of wine.

She glances behind her and sees her heels lying tangled on the couch cushions, the TV remote next to them. She doesn’t remember any of it, but if the booze and headache are any indication, she simply drank herself to sleep after the premier and fell off the couch.

She thinks back to the premier, remembering with the vague cloudiness that is the aftermath of such apparent heavy drinking that she’d been upset. But why? She stands and stumbles toward the bathroom, wincing as the light blinds her. She shakes it off and glances in the mirror, jaw dropping as she sees a monstrous bruise over her left eye. It’s black and purple and green - hideous and painful. Zelena gapes at the bruise, thinking it impossible to have gotten such a bruise from rolling off the couch.

She vaguely remembers feeling a sharp pain, and a feeling of weightlessness not long after. Maybe that was when she fell? She touches the spot, hissing when it hurts, and sighs, wondering if she might have a concussion. She shrugs that thought off as if it’s nothing, more worried about the look of the bruise than any damage it may have done. It’s going to take a lot of makeup to cover, she thinks, and she’s due for a publicity run to promote ‘The Lesson’ later that afternoon. She makes her way back to the couch and sits ungracefully, pulling at her gown. She apparently hadn’t made it very far inside before deciding to drink the night away. Pursing her lips, Zelena tries to think past the headache. What exactly happened?

An idea pops into her head and she moves over to her computer and pulls up TMZ. If anything happened that she doesn’t remember, it’ll be on there, she thinks. She pulls up the website, not surprised to see a link to a slideshow of pictures from the premier, but there’s nothing suspicious. She does a search of her name, having to pause momentarily to remember how to spell it. She’s hungover and confused, so she forgives the lapse in memory. Her name is unique after all. Several articles come up, but nothing from the past twenty-four hours, except a mention on a ‘Best Dressed’ list. She smirks at that. At least she has that going for her. Then a picture of that little bimbo driver pops up next, also on the best dressed list, and Zelena snarls. 

She remembers the premier, remembers seeing John on the arm of the brunette girl, whose name she can’t be bothered to remember. That strikes a memory, fuzzy though it is. She remembers arguing with the girl. But they hadn’t spoken at the premier, had they? She doesn’t think so, and she groans, finally deciding that it’s really just not worth the effort to try and figure out. She’s home, safe, and apparently just had a wild girl’s night in. No harm, no foul, she thinks. Well, minus the bruise.

She leaves her desk and moves to the kitchen, pulling out a bag of frozen carrots. She wraps it in a towel and touches it to the bruise, and though it’s not pleasant, it does seem to help. She pops an aspirin and grabs a glass of water, and returns to the couch. There’s nothing more to remember, it seems, and so Zelena decides to stop worrying. Besides, John will be out doing some publicity as well, and Zelena figures it’ll be better worth her while to spend time looking her best to impress him. If she can get him away from that _girl_ , maybe she’ll have a shot. She nods, determined. Yes, she thinks, instead of worrying about what happened last night, she’ll focus on the future.


	19. Epiphany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold meets the cast/crew of ‘Arcadia’ and comes to a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt. 
> 
> Takes place in New York.

Abigail Midas is everything her reputation insinuates: Cool, firm, and extremely professional. She introduces herself with a firm handshake, and thanks John politely and calmly for agreeing to be in her show. She’s nothing like the excited woman he spoke to on the phone, and Gold can’t help but admire her. She’s here to work, not gush, and he can tell he’s going to like working with her instantly.

She leads him to a room furnished with a large table, chairs, and a water cooler. There are a few other people present, and Abigail introduces them all to Gold, who is the unofficial star of the show. He’s the biggest name, at least, and will be what draws in the crowd. Not that that’s necessary; Abigail Midas is a legend in her own right, partially thanks to her father’s own legacy. He’d been a director in his hay day, and Gold remembers a time when he’d longed to work with the legendary Richard Midas.

Based on what he’s seen of Abigail however, she’s clearly inherited her father’s knack for the theatre. She waits ten more minutes, and when all the cast are seated - she’s made it clear already that she doesn’t tolerate tardiness - they begin the first read through.

Abigail stops the actors occasionally to ask for feedback and suggestions, and it’s quite clear that while Abigail has a vision, she wants to make sure the actors have a say. She’s direct with what she wants; she doesn’t waste time with flowery language or metaphoric statements. If she wants someone to behave a certain way, she tells them so, and the read through goes smoothly. By the end, everyone understands not only their own character, but each other’s characters. Abigail believes that while the character need not understand, the actor _must_ , because it’s only when the actor is truly intimate with the work that he can find the emotions he needs. Gold agrees. He’s always preferred to submerse himself in his roles, and it seems Abigail expects no less of her players.

The meeting ends, and the actors begin discussing what to do next. Many of them have worked together before, and they make plans to go out for drinks. Abigail’s harsh demeanor drops, and she steps to one of the young girls and talks excitedly about their plans for the weekend. When she finishes, she approaches Gold who is still seated, looking over the script.

"You feel good?" She asks. Gold nods.

"I think you have real vision, and I’m looking forward to bringing Septimus to life under your direction," he says simply, because it’s true. He _is_ looking forward to this, as daunting as it is. He’s returning to the stage, in a role he’s long since admired, under the direction of one of New York’s greatest directors. He can ask for nothing more.

Abigail smiles sweetly. “Thank you,” she says, “It’s hard living up to my father’s name, but if you have faith in me, then I think we’ll bring down the house.”

Gold agrees entirely.

"Would you like to join the cast?" She asks, nodding to the group, "I run a tight ship during rehearsal, but I’m always eager for a drink afterwards."

Gold considers going, if only for a moment. But Belle is back at the hotel getting everything unpacked and settled, and while he’d told her to simply order in as he had no idea how long he’d be, he wants nothing more than spend a quiet night in with her.

Maybe work up the courage to ask her to run lines with him.

Abigail senses his hesitancy and adds, “Are you meeting someone? They’re welcome to come too.”

Again, Gold considers it. “My friend is at the hotel,” he says at last, “Probably bored out of her mind. And this is only her second time in New York. I’ll call and see if she’d like to come.”

Clapping her hands together in approval, Abigail says, “Perfect. Let me know.”

Gold lifts his phone to his ear, unable to keep a small smile from forming when Belle picks up on the first ring. “Hey,” she says sweetly.

"Would you like to meet the cast?"

"Sure!" Her voice lifts an octave, John’s way of knowing she’s very excited at the prospect. He tells her the plan, then arranges to meet her in the lobby of the hotel, which happens to be on the way to the group’s favorite bar.

The group all dons hats, hoodies, and sunglasses, and Gold is grateful that he thought to bring his as well. He’ll be better hidden in a group, but everyone knows it’s best to stay hidden. It’s safer.

They meet Belle in the lobby, and Gold introduces her to everyone. They all take to her instantly, impressed that she’s Gold’s driver. The girls swarm around her to talk, and Gold trails behind, Abigail falling in step next to him. “Driver _and_ friend, huh?” She asks. Gold nods. Abigail points to a guy with light brown hair.

"Jim Fredricks," she murmurs, and Gold glances at the man. He’s tall, well built, and handsome. He’s playing the role of Valentine. It’s apparently his first real role, her remembers Abigail mentioning earlier.

"Yes?" John asks, not sure what her point is.

"My fiancé," she whispers, and Gold can’t help but glance down at Abigail’s hand. There’s no ring. "It’s hard being in a relationship with someone you technically have authority over," she sighs, "But we make it work. Quarrels from home stay there, and artistic differences are left on the stage. It’s not easy, but I love him." She’s quiet for a moment, pensive. "Father doesn’t even know."

"Does anyone?"

Abigail nods. “The cast does. My closest friends know. Some of his family does. I’m afraid people will accuse him of using me to get better roles, especially in my productions.” She sighs, “I cast him because, my love for him aside, he’s _good_. He’s going to go far,” she smiles indulgently, “I say that to say this: No matter what your relationship with her is, cherish it. She’s your friend? Make sure your friendship is more important than your roles.”

"I do," Gold says, understanding her completely now. She’s a kindred spirit in more ways than one, and John knows he’s going to have a long and lasting friendship with this woman. "I didn’t want a driver. My manager insisted. Now I have no idea where I’d be without her," he glances at Abigail, "And by that, I also mean _here_.” He points to the ground, indicating New York.

Abigail smiles. “Well, remind me to thank her.”

They arrive at the bar, and while the others go off to find a table big enough to seat everyone, Belle pushes her way back to stand before Gold. “Thank you for inviting me,” she says with a grin. Gold nods, and glances at Abigail who winks playfully before moving off to find Jim. “Thank you for making it possible.”

Belle watches him for a moment, biting her lip, and Gold recalls Jeff’s words. He opens his mouth, though he’s not sure what he wants to say, but then one of the girl’s calls Belle’s name. She looks over her shoulder to see the girl playing Chloe waving her over. She nods, grabs Gold’s arm, and leads him toward the group. John marvels as she sits down in the middle, fitting right in with the cast, as if she were one of them. Gold glances over to see Abigail and Jim, leaning close together and whispering softly. Abigail is smiling brilliantly, and she looks so in love, unlike the stern director who accepted no lollygagging and foolishness on her stage.

It makes sense though, as John reflects on his own life. He is private, and shares little with the rest of the world. But with Jeff and David, but most especially Belle, Gold is open. He is free to be himself with Belle, who accepts him completely. She understands the hardships of his career, and has supported him in everything for longer than they’ve known each other. She cares, she understands, and despite it all she’s remained by his side, loyal and steadfast. 

And then suddenly, the pressure he’s felt form Jeff’s outrageous plan lifts like a cloud. It’s silly and ridiculous, but it hardly matters. It’s what he _wants_. Belle is what he wants. It’s not Jeff’s plan anymore so much as it’s John’s desire, and he knows now with certainty that he will kiss Belle. Whatever happens after that, will happen. But for now, Gold is content. He’s in New York preparing to return to the stage under a phenomenal director, and he’s no longer afraid to admit to himself that he’s completely in love with Belle French.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	20. Bravery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do the brave thing…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ctdg on Tumblr prompted: What happens later that evening after “Epiphany”? 
> 
> Knowledge of the play "Arcadia" is not necessary to understand what is going on in subsequent chapters. Though I do recommend checking it out!
> 
> This takes place a few hours after the events of "Epiphany".

John and Belle enter the hotel suite feeling happy but exhausted. John’s cast mates had kept them out for a while, the girls determined to show Belle a good time. The guys had been up for anything, and as consequence, Gold had joined in, letting his new friends drag them to several places until finally Abigail had put on her director’s hat and declared it was time for everyone to go home, as rehearsals were tomorrow and she wouldn’t use the fun night out as an excuse for subpar performances.

Everyone had dispersed at that, and John and Belle returned to the hotel. They enter the shared suite - a room with two large bedrooms, a massive living room and fully equipped kitchen - and drop onto the couch. Gold is quiet, still reeling from his epiphany, and glances at Belle who is already half asleep. He reaches out to touch her, jumping back when her phone rings.

Belle snaps awake and grabs her phone. “It’s Mary,” she says excitedly, then turns to John. “I’m gonna take this in my room.”

John nods and Belle rushes to her bedroom, shuts the door, and answers the call.

"What are you doing calling me at two in the morning?" She scolds good naturedly, "You should be resting."

Mary sighs, “You sound like my husband.” She laughs then, and says, “And at any rate, I’m three hours behind you, so it’s only eleven.” Belle is silent, and after a moment Mary sighs. “I know I should be in bed, but I’ve got major heartburn. I also had a brilliant idea.”

"I’m sorry. And what sort of idea?" Belle asks, laying back on the luxury California King bed.

"About how to get you and John together." 

Belle’s eyes widen. “Oh?” She gulps. She has to admit, the thought of using this trip as a way to find out Gold’s feelings is very tempting, but she also understands he is here to work. She doesn’t want to be a distraction.

"Yeah," Mary carries on. "It’s actually really brilliant."

"I can’t wait to hear this," Belle replies dryly. Mary sniffs indignantly.

"Well, if it works, you’ll be sorry you ever doubted me."

Belle giggles. “I suppose so. Now, let’s hear it, oh brilliant one.”

"You mock now, but you’re about to be blown away."

"I’m all ears."

"Okay," Mary says. Belle can tell she’s excited about her plan, and it makes her all the more interested to know what devious plan is going through her supposedly innocent friend’s mind. "First a question: Does his character have a kissing scene?"

"Yes," Belle says. She’d read Arcadia in college, so most of it had been forgotten, but she’d managed to download a PDF of the script for the plane ride. She distinctly remembers the jealous feeling she’d had when she got to the end. John’s character did indeed have a kissing scene with the young girl he was in love with, not to mention several off-stage dalliances with other female characters.

"Perfect!" Mary declares, "Then all you need to do is offer to help him run lines."

Belle's jaw drops. “That’s your plan?” She asked, “That’s so-so….cliche!”

"So?" Mary defends, "It’s a cliche for a reason: it works."

"So I just offer to help and pray he struggles with that scene?"

"Do you have a better plan?"

Belle sighs wearily. “No.” 

She doesn’t, not really. She hadn’t entertained the idea much further, and now she wishes she had. Though she has to admit Mary’s plan, ridiculous though it is, does have some merit. She’s always wanted to get a closer look at how John prepared for a role, and what better way than to offer to help him? Belle shakes her head. “This is ridiculous,” she thinks, “There’s no way this will work.”

"It’s late," Belle says aloud, "For both of us. Get some sleep, Em."

"Think on it, though," Mary says, "You never know."

"Good night, Mary." 

The other woman sighs. “You’ll see,” she says, “I’m brilliant. Just trust me.”

With that the phone goes dead and Belle is left with a whirling mind. She shouldn’t do this. She can’t do this. Sighing and deciding it’s far too late for this kind of internal debate, Belle gets ready for bed. She’ll think about it once she’s had some sleep, and decide then.

~000~

Belle’s alarm wakes her at six-thirty, and she wanders out in her pajamas to the kitchen, eager for some coffee. She orders room service, then sits at the table, waiting for both food and John to appear.

A moment later, the latter does appear. John walks out of the room fully dressed and gives Belle a strange look before joining her at the table. She suddenly feels self conscious with her messy hair, shorts, and large shirt,but then he smiles at her, and she wonders if perhaps he doesn’t mind. They’re going to be living together for the next three months, so seeing her this way was bound to happen sooner or later.

"Good morning," he greets her, sounding as grumpy as normal. Belle smiles and answers, "Coffee is on the way."

"You’re my hero," he says dryly. And they sit in silence until room service comes. They begin eating, Gold only stopping long enough to ask, "And how was Mary Margaret?"

"Equally thrilled at being pregnant and annoyed the symptoms are already keeping her up."

"Ah," Gold says. "Something I would know very little about. Though I am happy for her and David."

"Me too," Belle smiles, "I can’t wait to spoil my unofficial niece."

"Aunt Belle does have a rather pleasant _ring_ to it,” John says, smirking as Belle glares.

"You’re _so_ clever,” Belle drawls, and with that she remembers the other part of her conversation with Mary. She bites back a groan, knowing she’ll have to decide if she’s brave enough to go through with it.

Gold finishes eating and stands, then bends over and rubs his leg. He’d overdone it the night before, and Belle feels partially guilty. He says nothing however, and retreats to his room, exiting a moment later with a jacket and script.

"What are your plans for today?" He asks as she finishes her coffee. Belle shrugs.

"I’ll probably finish unpacking and maybe read some."

Nodding, John moves toward the door. “I hope you enjoy yourself, then.”

"Is it too early to say ‘break a leg’?"

John laughs at that. “It’s already halfway there,” he says, nodding downward, “But I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.” 

Belle giggles, and then John is gone, and she’s missed a perfectly good opportunity. 

~000~

John returns home at seven, looking exhausted. He limps to the couch and collapses beside Belle, and she looks at him with worry. “How was it?”

"Good. Long."

Belle thinks for a moment, then stands and retreats to her room. She grabs a rag, then goes to the kitchen and gets a bowl and fills it with hot water. She goes back to the living room and sits on the table across from John and pats her lap. “Come here.”

He doesn’t comment, instead silently lifting his leg onto her lap. She unties his shoes, pulls off his sock, and rolls up his pant leg. It’s a familiar occurrence, Belle caring for his leg once he’s overdone it, but for some reason Belle is more acutely aware of her hands touching him tonight. Gold sighs as she removes the brace and begins to massage the tender spots. Gold hisses, but she knows it’s not out of pain and continues.

Eventually she dips the rag in the hot water and rubs it over him, the warmth soothing the aching muscles. “God,” he sighs, and Belle feels her cheeks heat. She’s aware that this isn’t sexual, but she’s touching him and he’s sighing because of her, and she can’t stop thinking about what Mary said. Belle wants so much to kiss him again, wants it more than anything, and if it must be done under the pretense of rehearsing, then so be it.

She gathers her courage, and speaks. “John?”

Gold opens one eye to look at her, then the other one. “Yes?”

"I was….um…." She curses herself. _Do the brave thing, Belle,_ she tells herself. “I was reading the script today, and I thought maybe, if you ever wanted to run lines here…with me… I’d be happy to help you.”

Gold looks at her with something akin to shock, and Belle wonders if she’s made a mistake. He’s a professional and probably doesn’t need or want her to help him. She suddenly feels foolish for letting Mary’s words get to her, and tries to think of a way to recant her offer. But then Gold sits up a little straighter, and after a moment, smirks almost wickedly.

"I’d like that very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle goes looking for John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt. 
> 
> Just a bit of context for this chapter: John’s playing the character of Septimus, who is a tutor and has a few liaisons with some other female characters throughout the play. He ends up falling in love with his student, Thomasina, whom he kisses in the last scene.
> 
> The play takes place in the past and present, with Thomisna and Septimus being two players in the past. 
> 
> A lot of other things happen, but this is the only plot point that is relevant to my story, so that’s all I’m getting into.
> 
> This takes place a week before the premiere of "Arcadia".

Belle can’t sleep. She knows it’s partly due to the espresso she had way too late, and also in part because John hasn’t come back yet. As the opening date grows closer, Abigail began pushing everyone harder and harder. As a result, John sometimes doesn’t make it back until much later, but it’s nearing eleven and Belle is starting to worry.

Grabbing her phone, she sends a quick text. _“Where are you?”_

A few moments later, she receives a reply. _“Theatre. Thinking.”_

Belle frowns, and wonders if he’s all right. She knows it’s a big deal for him to return to the stage, but he’s never seemed so distracted before. He claims rehearsals go well, and the times they’ve run lines together have been great, though she hasn’t built up the courage to suggest they practice the last scene.

She only has a less than a week before opening night. She’s been so caught up in worrying over whether to broach the subject of rehearsing the last scene, she’s failed to notice whether John is all right. She knows how he is before a movie premier or an interview, but this is a stage production. She’s on unfamiliar ground, and she suddenly worries if he’s having doubts or concerns about his role.

She curses herself for being so selfish, and hops out of bed, deciding instinctively that she needs to go check on him. If he’s thinking, then that means rehearsals are over and he’s remained behind to obsess over his role. It’s not an uncommon thing with him, to run himself ragged over a role. He needs her, Belle decides, as she dresses in jeans and a sweater. And where John goes, Belle goes. She grabs her bag and the card key and dashes out of the hotel.

~000~

The entrance to the theatre is unlocked and so Belle lets herself in. It’s dark, save for a few scant security lights scattered throughout the hall, and so Belle follows them down the somewhat familiar pathway toward the auditorium.

She finds it after only a couple minutes, and slips inside. She shuts the door carefully, then turns around to see John surrounded by stage lights, moving around the stage. It only takes her a moment to realize he’s rehearsing a scene.

She watches as he moves, interacting with phantom characters and objects. He speaks, then pauses as if someone is replying, then speaks again. He may be alone with no one to work off of, but he is in his element and doesn’t seem to notice he has an audience. Belle watches in silence, slowly moving closer to the stage as he brings Septimus to life before her eyes.

He pauses for a moment, then turns to the oil lamp seated on the table near the back of the room. Belle knows the scene well: it’s the final scene between Septimus and his young would-be lover. Her heartbeat quickens and Belle watches with bated breath. John turns to the door at stage right and exclaims, “My lady! What is it?”

Before she can stop herself, Belle responds eagerly, “Septimus! Shush! Now is our chance!”

John whips around to see Belle standing at the front row, surrounded in shadow. He takes a breath, a small smile ghosting across his face before he reverts back into character and says, alarmed, “For what, dear God?” 

Belle moves to the right and walks up the stairs to join John on stage. She’s read this scene a thousand times by now, and she knows how this goes. She feels excited and nervous, and can’t believe it’s actually happening. Stepping forward, she says the next line.

"Do not act innocent!" She declares, moving closer and closer to him. "Tomorrow I will be seventeen!" She reaches him, and stretches out her hands to grab his shoulders. He closes the distance and their lips press together hard, as Thomasina is meant to kiss her Septimus. They linger for a long moment, then Belle slowly pulls away, her breath catching as she looks up at John in amazement. 

"There," she whispers, finishing the line.

John blinks, then raises his eyes to meet hers. She grins when she sees it’s _John_ looking at her, not Septimus. “Dear Christ,” he breaths, and while that is the next line, Belle knows that’s not how it’s meant to be said. He leans closer to her once more, and Belle feels years’ worth of anticipation and longing spiral down until there is only this one moment. After all this time, she’s finally where she wants to be.

"Excuse me!"

Belle and John jerk away from each other to see a security guard standing at the entrance of the auditorium. “You’re not meant to be here.”

Belle looks away, flushed, and John clears his throat. “My apologies, Marty,” he says roughly, and the man steps forward.

"Oh, Mr. Gold, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you. I saw the girl sneak in and thought she was causing trouble."

John glances back at Belle, whose cheeks are blood red. “She’s my…driver,” John says at last. “I asked her to pick me up and she came in to let me know she was here.”

Marty nods. “No problem. I’ve locked the door now, so no one can get in. But you can go at any point. Just stay out of trouble!” With that, the man turns and leaves. Gold breathes a sigh of relief.

"Sometimes it pays to be well-known," he mutters, then turns back to see Belle, who is studying the floor intently. Her arms are wrapped around her and she looks small and almost frightened.

Gold steps forward, and she glances up at him. This is everything he’s wanted. Jefferson had assured him this would work, and it seems as if for once, the crazed man is right. Perhaps she wants this after all. Gold figures there’s only one way to find out, and she he steps to Belle and touches his fingers to her chin.

"Was that you?" He asks. Belle tilts her head in confusion.

"What?" Her mind is whirling. She doesn’t know whether to grab him and kiss him again, or apologize for being potentially inappropriate. Maybe both? She doesn’t know and she can’t think with him looking at her the way he is.

"Was that Belle kissing me? Or Thomasina?"

Oh.

"It was Belle," she breathes, “It was very much Belle.” 

Gold presses his forehead against hers and lets out a small laugh. ”Thank God.”

Then he wraps her up in his arms, and presses his lips to hers once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	22. Real or True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and John discuss what happened on the stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of "Very Much Belle".

You can’t have such a life changing moment without discussing it afterwards. 

Takes place almost immediately after Very Much Belle. 

They sit on the couch, fingers entwined as they try to think of what to say. Both thrive on their wit, and relish the others, but neither feels prepared for this conversation. How does one put into words such intense feelings that have remained hidden and dormant for so long? 

At length, Belle speaks. “Do you want this?” She feels it’s best not to beat around the bush. If it was a mistake, if he was just caught up in the moment, she wants to know before she says something that will only lead to heartache. 

Gold looks at her, his eyes wide and almost innocent. She knows he’s good at bearing all for an audience; he’s not so skilled at bearing himself like this. This is real; every look and word belongs to _him_. He cannot hide behind a character here. Biting at her lip, Belle waits patiently for him to choose his answer. 

"Yes," he says at last, squeezing her hand a little tighter. "I want this. You." 

Belle smiles at that. It’s strange, to be wanted, but she finds she likes it. 

"I want it to." 

This time John smiles, and he leans forward to press his lips to hers. Belle sighs as his mouth moves against hers, and she shifts closer to him. He pulls away after a moment, letting his forehead rest against hers. “How long?” 

"How long what?" She’s happy and feels as if she’s floating. He’ll have to forgive her if she’s not as sharp as usual. 

"How long have you wanted this?" 

"Do you want the real answer, or the true answer?" 

He leans back from her at that, eyes furrowed together in confusion. Belle elaborates. 

"The real answer is ever since college," she says, and John remembers that Belle has been aware of him for much longer than he has been aware of her. "I’ve wanted John Gold for a long time. Dreamt and fantasized about it." 

His brow rises and he looks intrigued. Belle laughs and slaps his arm playfully. “Not like that!” She giggles some more, then sobers and continues, “But the true answer is that I’ve wanted you - _really_ , genuinely wanted you - for about a year and a half. How-” she pauses and swallows thickly, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she’s actually having this conversation, “How long have you wanted…me?” 

"Real or True?" 

Belle giggles. “You don’t get a ‘real’ or ‘true’,” she argues. 

"Oh, but I do," he proclaims. "Really, I was attracted to you the moment I saw you," he tells her, "But I truly began to care for you the moment you first massaged my leg. You saw me as something more than just…my job. And so my feelings for you only grew from there." 

Belle smiles, and tears begin to blur her vision. John frowns and wipes at them. “What’s wrong?” 

"Nothing," Belle sniffs, feeling entirely foolish but too happy to care, "This is just everything I’ve ever wanted and I can’t believe it’s real." 

John smiles and they meet once more for a slow, lingering kiss. Belle pulls away and asks, “So are we doing this? Are we-” she glances down at their hands which are still laced together, “Together?” 

"I’d like us to be," John says. 

"Me too," Belle says. A moment later she begins to laugh. 

"What’s so funny?" John asks curiously and Belle shakes her head. 

"Nothing," Belle says at first, then decides to divulge the secret. She’s in too good a mood not to. "It’s just, I think I owe Mary Margaret a pair of Jimmy Choos." 

John looks at Belle quizzically. “Why?” 

Belle explains the conversation she’d had with Mary at the cafe, then looks at John sheepishly. “You’re not mad, are you?” 

John shakes his head, a smile on his lips. “If I were, I’d be quite the hypocrite.” 

It’s Belle’s turn to be confused. “Why?” 

"Because Jeff and I came up with a plan to get you and I together while we’re here." 

“What was Jeff’s plan?”

“Rehearse the final scene with you.”

Belle gapes at him, yet somehow she’s not surprised. “That was Mary’s idea, too!”

They stare at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Belle doubles over, head resting on top of their joined hands and snorts, the whole situation too bizarre and ridiculous to be real. Gold runs a hand over her hair and says in between laughs, “I don’t know whether to kill them or thank them.”

“Did they work together?” Belle asks, sitting up and wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes. John shrugs.

“I’ve no idea. Jeff never mentioned it.”

Belle shakes her head in amazement. How on earth could her two friends conspire against her so well? And without even working together! Belle couldn’t believe she and John had both secretly agreed to carry out the same plan of seduction, only to end up too afraid to actually attempt it until the last minute.

“I can’t believe them,” Belle groans.

"I can’t believe that, between the two of them, they couldn’t come up with anything more original," John muses dryly. Belle snorts. 

"It’s clichéd because it works," She says, mimicking Mary Margaret’s voice. “I seriously can’t believe this." 

"Nor can I," John admits, taking a moment to admire Belle. “Though I’m certainly glad it worked.”

Belle smiles at him, and John shifts, pulling her so that her back is pressed against him. He rests his chin on her head and says, “I suppose we’ll have to figure some things out, now.” 

"Such as?" 

"How private we keep this, for one," John says, "I’ve no desire to hide, but I’d also rather not make a scene." 

"Private is great with me," Belle agrees, "We could carry on like normal in public. People are going to talk regardless. But when we’re alone, like this, we can be more….relaxed." 

"It’s a good start," John agrees, "But, we’ll have to discuss some things further eventually, depending on how far we decide to take this." 

"I go where you go," Belle says, turning so she’s curled into John’s side. "For as long as you want me."

"I’ll always want you," he whispers, and Belle marvels at just how perfect her life has become in the matter of hours. 

"Then I’ll always be here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	23. Package

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary Margaret receives a mysterious package.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Real or True". 
> 
> No prompt.

Mary Margaret entered her apartment with a weary sigh. She loved her job, but some days were just more tiring than others. Today had been one of those days, and Mary was beginning to feel the impact of being on her feet for eleven hours while pregnant. She would never complain, but she couldn’t deny that she was extremely relieved to be home. 

She walked into the kitchen, smiling when she saw David at the stove, stirring a frying pan full of chicken and rice. He was humming to himself, and Mary couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. David paused and turned, giving her an affectionate smile.

“Hey, sweetheart,” David said, stepping away from the food to give his wife a kiss. He knelt down and pressed a kiss to her stomach, “And hello, precious one.”

Mary rested her hands on David’s head and ran her fingers through his hair, trying her best to memorize everything about this moment. “It’s nice to see you,” she said, and David rose to kiss her again. 

“Dinner is almost ready,” he said against her lips, ”If you’ll grab the plates I’ll dish it out.”

Mary grabbed two plates and David spooned out two large helpings of food onto them. Grabbing two glasses, Mary filled them with water and they moved to the dining room to enjoy a nice, quiet dinner.

When she reached the table, Mary stopped and tilted her head quizzically. “What’s this?” She asked, setting the plates on the placemats. 

David looked at the package to which Mary was referring and shrugged. ”No idea. It’s got your name on it. I figured maybe you ordered something for the baby. It came this afternoon.”

The fact that David could so casually mention their growing child thrilled Mary. They had wanted a child for so long. Now one was on the way, and Mary wasn’t sure if she had the patience to wait. She was ready to be a mother. 

Picking up the package, Mary gently shook it. It didn’t make a distinguishable sound, and she hummed thoughtfully. “I didn’t order anything,” Mary said before opening the box. 

She pulled out a slightly smaller box that was wrapped in bright colorful paper. Attached to it was an envelope and Mary ripped it open, her brow furrowing in confusion as she opened it and read the inside: 

_I believe these belong to you._

_-Belle_

“It’s from Belle,” Mary said, her confusion and interest rising. She lifted the lid off the decorated box, blinking in surprise as she stared down at a pair of gorgeous ballerina flats. “Shoes?” She ask as she lifted one out of the box to examine it. 

“Why would Belle send you a pair of Jimmy Choo’s?” David asked, mouth full of food. 

Mary glanced at him with amusement. “How did you know they were Jimmy Choo-“

Mary froze, her eyes widening and she glanced excitedly from David to the shoe in her hand. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed, a large, toothy grin growing on her face. “Oh my God!”

"What?" David asked in concern.

Mary grabbed the box and rushed to find her phone. “I have to call Belle,” she said, “Oh my God!”

~000~

The phone rang and Belle groaned. She reached blindly for her phone and answered groggily, “Hello? “

“TELL ME EVERYTHING NOW.”

Belle winced at the loud shriek from her friend, then sat up and said with a massive grin, “I take it you got the package?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	24. Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most actors have rituals before the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ctdg from Tumblr prompted: gold is nervous for the premiere and belle helps him release some stress (it doesn’t need to be necessary something sexual) and then she gives him her luckycharm

Belle slips inside the dressing room, smiling as she sees John seated at the makeup table, hands pressed together at his chin, brow furrowed in thought. He looks studious, every inch the scholarly tutor he’s meant to play. And just as Septimus is appealing to the women of the house in Derbyshire, so Belle feels herself drawn to John. There’s something attractive about him in a waist coat and breeches, Belle thinks, and while his suits have always made him look appealing, Belle can’t help but appreciate the way he looks now.

She gently shuts the door, and John looks up when it clicks closed. Sitting up a little straighter, he lowers his hands and smiles.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hey," she says back. He beckons her closer and she moves to him. Standing behind his chair, she leans forward, resting her chin on his head and drapes her arms over his shoulders. Looking at his reflection, she asks, "How are you?"

John lifts his hands to wrap around hers, which are draped over his shoulders. “A nervous wreck,” he admits softly, “Absolutely terrified.”

Belle frowns. John has been a whirlwind of emotions the past few months. From the excitement of his dream becoming reality, to the stresses of rehearsal, John has been a bundle of nervous energy. Belle presses a kiss to his head and feels him sigh. She looks at his reflection again, and allows herself a moment to take in his appearance. His makeup is subtle, or will be on stage, at least. He looks different, almost younger. 

His hair is tied back with a leather strap, and Belle decides that while she loves the outfit, she isn’t fond of his hair pulled away from his face. She likes how it frames his features, and even more, she likes being able to run her hands through it. She’d always wondered what it would be like to card her fingers through his hair; she’s had dreams of being swept up in his arms, her fingers touching the silky smoothness as he kissed her senseless.

It’s hard to believe she doesn’t have to dream anymore.

Feeling John kiss her hand, she shakes herself out of her thoughts and smiles at him encouragingly. “I think you’ll do wonderfully.”

John chuckles. “If you believe in me, then I’ve no doubt all will be well.”

She does believe in him. She knows he’s nervous about returning to the stage, but she also knows that John is an incredible man who is an expert at his craft. She’s watched him, from the rough read-throughs at the hotel, to the dress rehearsal the night before. He’s nailed the part. He knows it inside and out, and can turn Septimus from a character on a page into a living, breathing, seducing man.

"I’ll always believe in you."

Gold smiles at her reflection, and lifts her hand to press a kiss to it again. Belle feels herself flush, and looks away bashfully. She hasn’t felt this way in a long time. No guy has ever made her feel quite so ridiculously happy. John spins the chair around to face Belle, pulling on her so she stands in between his legs. She runs her hands over the buttons of his coat appreciatively and they smile at each other. Belle leans down to press a kiss to his lips.

A knock on the door sounds, and Belle jerks away from John as one of the stage assistants peeks his head in. “Fifteen minutes, Mr. Gold.”

John nods and the door shuts. Belle glances from the door to John and they both break out into a laugh. It’s only been a few days that they’ve been together, and they’re still adjusting to the nuances of it all. They’ve never been strictly professional; not since they very beginning days of their relationship. But now there’s something else there. Where there was once the truest friendship now lies something much deeper. No longer is it wishful thinking for either party. They both want this. Belle wants kisses and long embraces and to hold the heart of this man she’s adored for so long. John wants companionship, trust, and someone to hold.

They’ve finally found those things in each other.

But even still, they must be careful. Rumors already swirl about whether or not they’re dating and neither of them want to add fuel to the fire. Once word gets out - and they know it will, eventually - the next question will be whether they are going to marry. What about children? What if they break up? Belle knows she can’t have - or not have - a relationship with John Gold without public speculation running rampant at every turn. But she doesn’t care. This is what she wants, and if she can’t handle a few front page covers questioning her relationship with the man, then she doesn’t deserve him.

"I should probably go," Belle says after a moment, "Don’t want to risk getting caught, and you probably have some pre-show rituals you need to do."

She steps back, but John catches her. He stands carefully, trying not to bother his leg. He can’t wear his brace under the tight-fitting pants of his costume, and so a prop cane has become a signature added piece to Septimus’ design. Gold hates it. Belle, however, thinks it makes him look distinguished.

Pulling her close, John wraps his arms around Belle. “Stay,” he begs, “You keep me calm.” 

"I don’t want to distract you," Belle protests weakly. But if he wants he to stay, she’ll stay.

"Just for a minute, then," he relents, "I know you need to get to your seat soon. And I need to get in place."

Belle nods and holds him to her. She can feel his heart beating frantically in his chest, and she frowns. This won’t do. Stepping back slightly, she leans up and kisses him again. John kisses her back hungrily, cradling her face in his hands as his lips mesh with hers.

When he pulls away, he gives her a self-satisfied smirk. “There,” he says, “My new pre-show ritual.”

Belle flushes and adjusts his cravat. “I think I like your new ritual.”

John says nothing and instead kisses her again. They linger close together, before John steps back with a sigh. “We should go.” 

Belle nods, and steps around him to pick up the gold-handled cane. She offers it to him, and he tugs on the handle, making Belle lurch forward. Their lips meet again, and Belle flings her arms around John’s neck, fingers itching to play with his hair. She manages to resist, and pulls away, breathless. She wipes at her mouth, not surprised when a touch of his makeup comes away on her fingers.

"I think _I’m_ supposed to get makeup all over _you_ ,” she teases and Gold rolls his eyes before limping to the table and grabbing a case of makeup. He reapplies the spot on near his chin, then turns and gently nudges Belle with his cane.

"Let’s go, tease," he says. 

Belle nods and grabs the handle of the door. She pauses, then turns and presses yet another kiss to John’s lips. “Break a leg,” she whispers against him, then she’s gone.

John sighs and turns back to face the mirror. He looks at himself for a long moment, staring in wonder at the happiness he can see etched on his made-up features. He smiles at his reflection, then shuts his eyes. After a long moment of silence, he opens them, and Septiums looks back at him through dark brown irises.

"Show time," he whispers. Then he leaves the room and takes his place in the wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	25. Opening Night, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia opens. Belle has an encounter with someone unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymousnerdgirl on Tumblr prompted: Most actors have rituals before the show. 
> 
> Takes place immediately after "Rituals".

The performance is perfect, just like Belle knew it would be. The roar of applause is almost deafening as the cast comes forth to take their bows. When John walks on stage, the crowd erupts into loud cheers, and someone even throws a rose onto the stage. John waves and bows to the crowd, a small, pleased smile on his face. He reaches back for his costar’s hands and they all step forward for one last bow.

The moment they disappear behind the curtain, Belle rushes out of her seat and sneaks through the crowd toward the backstage. Marty, the cop who’d caught her the night she’d snuck in looking for John, smiles as she rushes past and shakes his head. 

People are still cheering. Belle can hear them from the entrance of John’s dressing room and it makes her tremble with joy. There will be rave reviews in the papers tomorrow morning. People will talk of how incredible John was, and tickets for the subsequent nine shows will sell like proverbial hotcakes. It’s everything Belle had hoped for, but while she is excited for the acclaim that John so deserves, she’s more interested in giving him her own personal review of his performance.

She taps on the door and a moment later it opens. John practically yanks her inside and Belle squeaks in surprise. The door slams shut, then John pushes Belle against it, pressing his mouth to hers in a heated kiss. Belle responds eagerly, feeling a sense of pride at knowing that the man everyone can’t get enough of tonight is only interested in _her_.

Finally he releases her lips and presses his forehead against hers, smiling even as he pants breathlessly. Belle is equally out of breath, and so she allows herself to reach up and pull the leather strap that’s holding his hair back. It falls down around his shoulders and Belle occupies herself with playing with the ends of his hair.

When she catches her breath she says, “You were _amazing_.”

Gold swallows thickly and nods. “I feel amazing,” he says, “It felt so good out there, Belle.” 

"You’re mesmerizing," Belle whispers hotly, "I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Every move, every word. You were brilliant."

"I hope the critics agree," John murmurs, opening his eyes to look at Belle. She traces her fingers down his cheek.

"Couldn’t you hear them?" She asks, "They were going wild. Everyone did wonderful, but, John, you were-"

She can’t really think of how to describe it, and she’s too proud, joyous, and aroused to care. Instead, she grabs him and spins them so he’s pressed against the door, and kisses him with abandon. He groans, and presses against her, nipping at her lips. If Belle weren’t so distracted by the sensation, she would laugh at the realization that she finds watching John Gold act on stage incredibly _hot_.

Someone knocks on the door and they freeze against each other. Belle gives him an amused grin and steps away, adjusting herself while John does the same. When he’s slightly more presentable, he opens the door and Abigail steps inside.

"Oh," she says, jumping when she sees Belle standing there, cheeks burning and lips swollen, "You were…celebrating."

Belle looks down, biting her lip in embarrassment. So much for being careful.

"We were," John says and Belle throws him a curious glance. They’ve agreed to keep their relationship private to everyone but those they trust dearly. It seems John trusts Abigail, which pleases Belle greatly. She hasn’t spent much time with the woman, but she admires her talent. She watches director and actor together, and can see they’ve bonded over the past couple months. Belle can’t help but wonder over what.

Abigail smiles and pats John on the shoulder. “As you should,” she says, and after checking to see that no one else was lurking outside, she lets out a squeal and throws her arms around him.

"They loved it!" She exclaims softly, stepping away to press a kiss on John’s cheek. "Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done this without you."

John smiles and takes Abigail’s hand. “Abigail,” he says softly, “Thank _you_ for the incredible opportunity.”

She smiles at him tearfully. Then, as quickly as the emotional moment began, it ended, and Abigail was back to her professional self. “Yes, well,” she says with a cough, “Everyone wants to celebrate, so I thought I’d come let you know we will be meeting for drinks. You two in?”

John glances at Belle, who nods encouragingly. “It’s your night,” Belle says, “You all deserve to celebrate.”

"Then we’ll be there," John decides.

"Excellent," Abigail says. "Now, I’m going to go find the others and congratulate them."

"Give my best to Jim."

Abigail’s cheeks burn as deeply as Belle’s had earlier, but she smirks and slips out of the dressing room.

"Jim?" Belle asks.

Gold turns to Belle and takes her hand in his. “They’re engaged. It’s….not a well-known fact.”

Belle takes a moment to picture Jim, who had done remarkably well. She admits to herself that she’s biased and thinks John stole the show, but she would be a fool if she didn’t admit that Jim was an extremely talented - and handsome - man.

"That’s wonderful," she smiles, "I’m glad Abigail has someone."

John gives her a loving look, and pulls her into a hug. “Thank you, Belle,” he whispers, “This wouldn’t have happened without you.”

"You deserve to be happy," Belle says sweetly, playing with his cravat once more. John catches her hand and presses a kiss to it.

“ _You_ make me happy.”

Belle gazes at him lovingly. “You make me happy, too.” 

They kiss again, this time soft and gentle. Belle leans back and says, “You should get changed. I’m going to go find the others and congratulate them.”

Gold nods. “I’ll find you when I’m ready.”

She nods and leaves the room. She doesn’t see any of the other cast, so she wanders toward the foyer, thinking maybe they’ve come out to meet fans. She spots one of the girls, the one playing Thomasina and begins making her way toward her.

"Well, well. Look who it is. The _driver_.”

Belle whirls around, mouth falling open when she sees a tall, smug looking woman with fiery red hair glaring down at her.

_“Zelena?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	26. Opening Night, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Zelena face off.

Panic grips Belle like a vice as she sees Zelena standing before her, decked out in a tacky green and black dress. Even in Belle’s heels, the other woman towers over her, and it’s clear Zelena revels in the advantage, shallow though it may be.

Belle is afraid as she stands there, looking up at the woman who has been nothing but a pain since they met. Could Zelena be here to enact some revenge for the black eye Belle had given her? She can’t imagine that’s the case. That incident was several months ago, and Belle has Graham’s word that Zelena would wake up thinking it all just a horribly painful dream.

And while there’s disdain in Zelena’s sky blue eyes, Belle doesn’t think she’s here for revenge. At least not on that front.

Zelena steps forward, her hips swaying in an obnoxious swagger. “Shouldn’t you be waiting by the car?”

Belle straightens herself, trying to appear taller, and lifts her chin defiantly. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

Zelena smirks and lets out a snigger. “I think not,” she says, smirk sliding into a vicious scowl. “I think you forget your place, girl.”

"I think you have no idea what you’re talking about."

Rolling her eyes, Zelena scoffs, “I know _exactly_ what I’m talking about.”

Belle has always prided herself on her kindness and understanding. She always tries to see the best in people, and believes there is good in everyone. Even after being thrust into a world of vanity and betrayal, Belle has found a tight-knit group of people whom she trusts dearly. It hadn’t until Zelena, however, that Belle realized there are some people who are simply - _awful_.

“I think you should leave,” Belle says, taking a bold step toward the woman. Around them people are beginning to stare and Belle half wishes someone would come running up and ask for the red-head’s autograph: maybe then her vanity can be directed elsewhere and Belle can slip away to warn John of his unwanted visitor.

Looking down her nose at Belle, Zelena sneers, “I think _you_ are the one who should leave. You’re not welcome here, and if you think anyone as notable as John Gold could ever want someone as pathetic as you,” she laughs, “You’re very much mistaken.”

It hurts; Belle knows her words are empty insults. Belle already knows John wants her. She doesn’t doubt him in the slightest, but Zelena, for the first time in her career, is convincing. Belle bites her lips and steps back, torn between letting Zelena think she’s won the battle, and punching her again.

Before she can do either one, a familiar voice speaks up behind them.

"Is there a problem here?" 

Belle glances back to see Marty the security guard standing there, trying to look tough and imposing. He’s barely taller than Belle and twice as wide, but he strikes his best stance and glares menacingly at Zelena.

"Of course not, dear," Zelena says with that sickly sweetness that makes Belle’s stomach churn, "We’re just having a little chat."

"Well, I’ve received several complaints about a disturbance, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave."

Zelena’s face morphs into a look of shock and disgust and Belle allows herself a moment to admire the woman’s ability to make some truly remarkable expressions. It’s a real talent, Belle thinks. 

"I have every right to be here," Zelena protests, then points at Belle, "She’s the one who needs to be removed!"

"But I’m getting complaints about _you_ ,” Marty says, and steps between the two woman, “I don’t want to have to use force, Ma’am. And I’m sure you don’t want a scene.”

Snarling, Zelena whirls around and storms out of the foyer, with Marty following behind. When Zelena is out the door, Marty returns and nods at Belle.

"Who was complaining?" Belle asks, stepping up to him.

"No one," Marty shrugged, "I could tell you weren’t happy to see her so I thought I’d exercise some…authority." He slips his thumbs underneath his suspenders and smirks, looking proud of himself. "You famous types are always getting into trouble."

"I’m not famous, Marty," Belle protests.

"No but your…..boss is," Marty says, "And it’s my job to make sure your boss and my boss are safe and sound."

"Thank you," Belle says. She considers something for a moment, then reaches out and hugs the large man. "You’re wonderful."

When she pulls back, Marty’s face is red and he stammers, “Well, I gotta go make sure the others are okay. Yell if you need me again.”

"I will," Belle grins.

Marty walks off and, relieved, Belle turns around, slamming directly into John, who grabs her arms to steady her. Looking after Marty, his face is scrunched in a puzzled expression.

"What did he mean by, ‘again’?"

Belle freezes a moment. Should she tell John about Zelena? If the woman had been removed, she might still be lurking, but she also would have no idea where the group was going. It was best not to upset him; not after his night of triumph.

"Nothing," she says coolly. "I couldn’t find anyone, so I asked Marty for help. But the cast is all over there," she said, pointing to where the others were standing. "Let’s go celebrate."

John stares at her for a moment, then decides to let it go. They approach the group, several of whom had witnessed the altercation. Belle subtly shakes her head ‘no’ to the few who were looking at her curiously, and an understanding passes between her and the others. She’ll have to explain it to them later, she knows, but John doesn’t need to know.

As his driver, she’s tasked with making sure he arrives from point A to point B on time and in one piece. As his girlfriend, however, she’s tasked with making sure he’s happy and content. And so she decides to forget about Zelena for a while and focus on making sure John is the happiest man on earth. He deserves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	27. Back to Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets a new script.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after John and Belle return from New York. 
> 
> No prompt.

Belle slams the break of the car to prevent them from slamming into the rear of a white Mercedes. Behind her, Gold curses. Unable to suppress a giggle, Belle glances at him through the rear view mirror.

"Sorry," she says with a grin. "Some things never change, I suppose."

John rolls his eyes and resumes taking a sip of his extra-large cup of coffee.

They’re freshly arrived from New York, where critics and fans alike are still raving over the spectacular performance John gave. Reviews were golden, and there has been some slight buzz that Gold could even be nominated for a Tony for his portrayal as Septimus. Gold brushes it all off, claiming all he cares about is the satisfaction of doing what he loves. Belle understands his point of view, but she also can’t help but daydream about watching the man she loves giving an acceptance speech at the Tony’s.

The fact that he’d have to watch a variety of performances from the latest musicals doesn’t hurt the appeal either.

"Indeed they don’t," Gold agrees, before glancing down and smirking at his cup. "And yet, some things do."

Belle giggles, feeling stupidly happy and content. She glances at John once more, and their eyes meet. It’s amazing how much has changed in three years. She’s still his driver, and he’s still as well-respected by the public as ever. But now they’re not so alone. Now they have each other in a more intimate way than before. Belle is glad for the change; she’s loved him for so long, and though neither have actually said the words, she doesn’t doubt the depth of his feelings for a moment. They’ll say it when the time comes. For now, Belle just wants to enjoy the return to normalcy. She’s in the driver’s seat, Gold is safe in the back. It’s as it should be.

"I just hate we have to stop by Jeff’s," Belle complains, "I know he claims to have something important he needs to discuss with you, but I firmly believe all he wants is to rub in our faces that he was right."

She hears John scoff behind her. “I’m surprised he waited for us to get back to L.A.,” he says.

Belle nods in agreement, then her brow narrows. “And now suddenly I’m extremely worried.”

"You’ve been friends with Jefferson longer than I have, and you’re just _now_ worried?” 

~000~

They enter Jeff’s office, only to be attacked by the man himself. He hugs them both tightly, squeezing to the point of discomfort, and it’s only when John threatens to fire him that Jeff lets go.

"You two," he says, wiggling his finger at them and grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I _knew_ New York would be good for you both.”

"I’m sure you did," John says as he pushes past the crazed man and moves to the red leather cough. He collapses onto it, stretching out his bad leg with a sigh of relief. Belle follows and sits on the couch as well, lifting John’s leg and laying it over her lap. He gives her a strange look, but when she smiles reassuringly at him, he relaxes and enjoys the freedom to let her be as affectionate as she wishes.

"You said you had something important," Belle says and Jefferson nods. He moves to his desk, rummaging about through stacks of papers and files that are scattered in a complete lack of organization before standing and holding a thick script triumphantly above his head. He steps over to the couch and drops the script onto John’s stomach, who grunts at the impact. Belle rolls her eyes, and leans closer over Gold and looks at the cover of the script.

“The Human Seasons," read Belle.

John glanced up at Jeff who was looming over him with a look of pride. “I read this one,” Jeff declared, “It’s pretty good.”

"I just got back from New York," John said with a groan, "And I’d like to enjoy some….down time before I return to work," he paused, looking at Belle with a small smile, "I know you hardly do anything all day, but being on stage five times a week for two months is exhausting."

"Just read it over," Jeff said as he returned to his seat, "And think about it."

"Fine," Gold sighed wearily, "I’ll think about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	28. A New Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle meets John Gold for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt. 
> 
> This is John and Belle's first meeting.

Belle French breathes in and out deeply, trying to calm her nerves. She stands at the door to Jefferson’s office, rocking back and forth on her heels, trying to summon the courage to knock. She can hear voices on the other side, both familiar in entirely different ways.

She wipes her palms on her floral print skirt, frowning as the sweat causes it to wrinkle slightly. This is a mistake. She slams her eyes shut, takes another breath, and lifts her hand.

_Be brave, Belle_. She tells herself as she raps quickly on the door.

She hears the voices soften, then there is the sound of boots crossing the hardwood floor. The door opens, and Belle is swept into a fierce hug.

"Well, well, if it isn’t Belle!"

Belle smiles and pushes herself away from her friend. “Hey, Jeff. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

Jefferson waves her inside with a grin, then saunters over to his seat behind the desk. Plopping down, he motions to the other man in the room. “Well, say hello, love.”

Belle swallows thickly and steps closer to the other man. He rises, and Belle feels her stomach flip with nervous excitement as she takes in his form. He is taller than her, though not by much. He’s thin, but not overly so, his form sharp and sleek in a dark, three piece suit. Belle can’t help but wonder how he manages to stand so many layers in the heat of Los Angeles.

She stops directly in front of him, glancing up to meet his familiar, brown eyes. Resisting a squeal of delight, she instead offers him a pleasant smile and sticks out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Gold,” she says as professionally as she can.

Gold cocks an eyebrow and glances at Jefferson with a knowing glare. “You told her to call me that, didn’t you?”

Jefferson presses a hand over his heart, “What makes you think I would do that?”

"Because you like nothing more than screwing with me."

Jefferson laughs, and Belle feels herself flush with shame. He doesn’t like being called that. She files the information away and apologizes. Gold turns his attention back to her, his face void of any real emotion.

"It’s no matter," he says softly to her before letting go of her hand. Belle instantly clasps her hands together, and the thought of never washing her hand again crosses her mind. That’s disgusting and impractical, she knows, but she’s just touched John Gold’s hand, and had she not been in the man’s presence, she is certain she would scream.

Gold sits back onto the couch and gestures impatiently. “I believe you have a resumé?”

Belle jerks out of her thoughts and pulls a copy of her resumé out of her bag. Handing it to Gold, he glances over it for a long moment before looking at Jefferson. “She has no professional driving experience.”

"I never said I had someone in mind who was a professional driver," Jeff replies coolly, "I said I had someone you could _trust_. Anyone can drive.”

"True," Gold concedes. He turns to look at Belle who is still standing, wringing her hands together. "And I can trust you?"

Belle tries to speak, but Jefferson’s snort of amusement caught her attention.

"Please," Jeff says, "This girl is loyal to a fault." With a smirk, Jeff adds, "Plus she’s nuts about you."

Belle let out a small ‘eep!’ at that, and shoots Jefferson a hateful glare. Jefferson just shrugs as if to say, ‘you know it’s true’ and kicks his feet up onto his desk. He’s utterly relaxed, relishing her awkwardness in the situation, and if it weren’t for the fact that his madness has caused her to meet John Gold, she’d kill him.

Belle glances back at Gold, who is watching her with a bemused expression. She knows how he feels about rabid, obsessive fans, and she’d been determined to keep that aspect of her life secret. John Gold is to be her employer - he needs to know her professional credentials, not about her DVD collection of his movies and her wealth of knowledge about him from watching too many interview.

"I am a fan," she admits cautiously, "But that’s irrelevant. Jefferson said you needed someone you could trust to drive you to shoots, interviews, and other events, which I can do. I pride myself on being discreet and loyal, which Jeff said were your main concerns in hiring a driver…"

She trails off as Gold’s eyes narrow. He stares at her for a long while, and Belle feels herself break out in a slight sweat once more. She’s royally screwed this up, she knows, and her fear that John Gold is going to think her horribly pathetic seems on the verge of coming to pass. But then he surprises her by standing, and holds out his hand to her. She takes it, surprised when he squeezes it. She can feel her eyes bugging out of her skull, but she can’t seem to gain control of herself.

After a moment, John sighs, resigned.

"Sign the paperwork with Jefferson, and I’ll see you tomorrow at five AM. Jeff can give you my address."

Before she can stop herself, Belle squeals. Instantly she slaps her hand over her mouth, horrified. She can hear Jefferson snickering to her left, but she ignores him and instead takes a long, deep breath and tries again.

"I mean…thank you, Mr. Gold."

He cringes at the name, but says nothing. Belle can’t find it to be embarrassed by the mishap again. Who cares? She has a job!

He steps around a slack-jawed Belle and turns a pointed look to Jefferson. “I’m trusting you,” he says in a low tone. Belle feels a chill run up her spine at the threat in his words. “You better know what you’re doing.”

"I rarely do," Jeff replies jovially.

Belle registers the door behind her shutting, then feels large hands gripping her shoulders. “You can breathe now, girl.”

Glancing behind her, Belle sees Jefferson grinning madly at her and she lets out an unbelieving chuckle. “I’m going to kill you.”

"After you sign the paperwork, Ms. Driver," Jeff says as he pulls her over to his desk. Belle feels numb, unable to believe that she not only has a job, but she’s going to be spending her days with a man for whom she’s harbored feelings for years. It’s ridiculous, she knows. She doesn’t truly know John Gold, not enough to _really_ care for him, but she can’t help but feel a connection.

She doubts he feels the same. Why would he? She’s known him for years. He’s known her for all of five minutes.

Jeff hands her a stack of paperwork, of which includes a salary agreement, confidentiality agreement, and a liability and waver. Belle signs it all in a daze, and when she’s done, she’s officially John Gold’s driver.

She looks at Jefferson, who seems absolutely pleased with himself, and bites her lip. What has she gotten herself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	29. Assurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle is confident. John is not. Tonight however, their roles are reversed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt. 
> 
> This takes place immediately after the events of "Opening Night, Part 2".

John knows there’s something wrong. To anyone else, it would seem as if Belle is behaving like her normal, cheerful self; she’s smiling and laughing, surrounded by friends. But it’s not genuine. When the conversation moves away from her, her smile fades and she slumps in her seat ever so slightly. She’s upset, but she’s trying to pretend that everything is fine. John watches her in silence, sipping a glass of wine as he does so. Everyone else seems to thinks she’s fine, or else they’re just too elated from the success of the show to really notice.

But John notices Belle. And despite her best efforts, she’s a terrible actress.

John would have been content to leave after the first round of drinks, but his cast mates are social, as is Belle, and so he merely sits and observes the others interactions, leaving the decision to leave in Belle’s hands. He doesn’t want to make her leave, but he doesn’t want to force her to stay if she’d rather drop the act and tell him what’s the matter.

At one AM, Abigail makes a not-so-subtle hint that the group should begin to disperse, as they have a rehearsal and performance tomorrow.

"Plus I want you all clear-headed when I read the reviews," she says with a sly grin.

Everyone cheers, and after another round of drinks to celebrate, they go home.

John watches Belle as they walk toward the hotel. He’s glad they’re not stuck in a car, which always leaves him unable to see Belle’s face. The hotel is close to the theatre, which is close to the group’s preferred bar, and though John’s leg is killing him, he’s glad to be able to walk beside Belle. He can’t hold her hand, not without risk, but the moment they’re safely tucked away in the hotel room, he’s going to get to the bottom of this sudden bout of sadness that’s come over her.

They enter the lobby and take the elevator up to the top floor. John casts a look at Belle, and she offers him a smile, but there’s sadness in her eyes. He doesn’t like it.

He unlocks the door for them and they step into the large suite. Belle flips on the lights, then immediately kicks off her heels, not bothering to pick them up from where they land in the middle of the living room.

"I’m going to go to bed," she says meekly before pressing a chaste kiss to John’s lips. "I’m proud of you."

Turning, Belle moves to go to her side of the suite. Without thinking, John reaches out, knowing once she’s behind that door, he’ll never get her to tell him what’s wrong. Come morning, she’ll be able to hide it even from him, and John isn’t about to let whatever has upset his beloved linger untouched anymore. He wants answers, but more importantly, he wants to help Belle. His hand grips hers tightly, and he’s surprised and slightly hurt when Belle doesn’t turn around to face him. Though it pains him he moves instead, and steps around so that he can face Belle. 

She’s crying. Large crocodile tears slide down her cheeks, trailing bits of mascara with them, leaving her face streaked. John reaches into the breast pocket of his suit and pulls out a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes gently.

"What’s wrong, sweetheart?"

Shaking her head, Belle glances down at their hands that are still joined.

"It’s nothing," she says with a shaky voice, "I don’t want to bother you. You should be celebrating."

"You’re never a bother," John says, gently nudging Belle over to the sofa. He sits, stretching out his leg, then pulls Belle to sit on his lap. "Does it have something to do with Marty?" 

Belle shakes her head, then takes the handkerchief from John and dabs at her eyes some more.

"No. He helped me." 

“Then someone _was_ bothering you,” John concludes.

Belle nods.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" John says, slightly agitated. If someone is harassing Belle, he’d like for her to tell him. Girlfriend or driver, he cares for her, and he isn’t going to stand for someone upsetting her like this to get to him.

"Because it would upset you."

"I’m already upset, Belle," he says, clarifying when she shoots him a terrified look, "Not at you. At whoever is responsible for this reaction." He starts to rub her back soothingly and encourages, "Tell me what happened?"

Belle buries her face in her hands and mumbles. Gold strains to hear and takes her chin in his fingers and lifts it up so she has to look at him. “What?”

Belle sighs, defeated. “Zelena was there.”

John’s lip curls into a snarl. “ _What?_ ”

Belle sniffs and sits back against the couch. “She approached me after the show,” Belle says, “While you were changing.”

"What did that bitch say?"

Belle shrugs, “It doesn’t matter.”

"Belle," John sighs, "You’ve been on the verge of tears all evening." She looks at him, surprised. "I know you, Belle. You’ve not been yourself, and if Zelena has said something to upset you this badly, I’d like to know what it was."

Tears begin to fall fresh, and Gold knows that whatever Zelena said to her, it’s done more damage than even he first realized.

"Sh-she said," Belle began, "I’d forgotten my place. She called me your driver - and I know that’s what I am, but she said it with such _disgust_ that I suddenly felt so ashamed of who I was. I can’t help but think maybe she’s right,” Belle says, her tone getting higher as she battles against crying, “Maybe I don’t belong here. Maybe I’m _not_ good enough for you and should stop deluding myself. You deserve the best, and while I certainly don’t think that’s Zelena, maybe it’s not me either. I’m just a silly girl who’s been half-obsessed with you since I was sixteen.”

"Are you finished?"

Belle blinks, and anything else she was going to say dies on her tongue. “Y-yes?” She replies questioningly.

"Good." John takes her face in between his hands, and pulls her close to him. "I want you to listen to me," he says with a firmness that makes Belle shiver. "I am not a confident man," he begins, "And I’ve spent years believing that I don’t deserve half the things I’ve gotten in life. And that’s something that I’m still dealing with. But Belle, _you_ are enough. You are more than enough.”

He pauses to wipe away more of her tears. “Out of everything in my life, Belle, being with you is the one thing in which I’m _absolutely certain_.”

Belle begins to sob, and falls against him, her body shaking as she cries into his shoulder. John wraps his arms around her, trying his best to soothe her as she trembles in his arms.

"Thank you," she mutters at last, and Gold tilts his head to awkwardly press a kiss against her cheek.

"I’ve had doubts about a lot of things," John says, "But never you." He pushes Belle up so that he can look at her. Her makeup is completely ruined, smeared all down her face. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, but to John Gold, he’s never seen anyone more lovely.

"I’m sorry if I made you worry," Belle whispers.

"I’m sorry you had to endure her antics….again."

Belle shrugs and glances down at the handkerchief. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have let her get to me. I know you care about me. I suppose I just think sometimes that I’m going to wake up one day and all of this will have been a dream. You won’t know I exist.”

"Let me assure you right now, Belle French. I am most certainly aware of your existence. And my life is better for it."

Smiling, Belle slides off his lap. “Thank you.” She pauses a moment, looking as if she wants to say something else. Shaking her head, she instead says, “I should go get cleaned up,” she says, gesturing toward the bathroom. “I probably look like a mess.”

John is half-tempted to pull her down and make sure she’s thoroughly assured of his affection toward her. But she looks drained, and he’s equally exhausted. So instead, he stands, his leg throbbing, and wraps her in a hug.

"Go get some rest, sweetheart," he tells her, kissing her softly.

"Good night, John."

They kiss again and Belle turns away. After she disappears into her room, John sags back onto the couch. He should follow her. He should grab her and press her against the wall and kiss her and _show_ her how much he cares for her until she’s screaming, writhing and completely and utterly _convinced_.

He stands once more, still uncertain of whether or not he should do this. Pain shoots up his leg more forcefully this time, and with a hiss, John turns toward his own room instead. He’s strained it enough for one day, he thinks, and with that, any plans of surprising Belle leave. He feels a slight pang of regret, but brushes it aside. There will be time to properly romance Belle. Once ‘Arcadia’ finishes its run, there will be time for everything. John will make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle has a wreck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ladybugbear2 on Tumblr prompted: Belle is on her way to pick up John and gets into a car accident. She breaks her wrist due to the airbag deploying but other than some bruises is okay. John freaks.
> 
> This takes place after they get back from New York.
> 
> The wreck described in the story actually happened to me about four years ago. I’m still slightly traumatized by it.

John tapped his foot impatiently. He glanced at his watch, scowling when he saw the time. Belle was meant to be here. She should have been here ten minutes ago, in fact. Toying with the cell phone in his hand, John debated calling her once more. Normally Belle arrived at least fifteen minutes early, and the fact that she was late _and_ hadn’t called filled him with fear. What if something had happened?

He dialed her number again, heart sinking further when it went straight to voice mail. Something wasn’t right. He stood and began to pace, debating on what to do next. Should he call Jefferson? Maybe Mary Margaret. Shaking his head, he tossed the latter idea aside. Mary was pregnant and didn’t need the stress of him freaking out on her. Unless she’d gone into labor. Gold paused in his steps. Maybe Belle _was_ with Mary.

He paused again, shaking his head at his foolishness. Mary was still in her first trimester. There was no way that could be the cause. Growling in frustration, Gold raked his hands in his hair. He didn’t even care if he was late to the photo shoot at this point; he just wanted to know where Belle was.

His phone began to ring, and without even looking John answered it. “Belle?”

"Is this John Gold?"

He froze. Glanced at the number on the screen. It was one he didn’t recognize. Putting the phone back up to his ear he confirmed, “This is he.”

"This is Mariah from California Hospital Medical Center. I’m calling to inform you that you are listed as an emergency contact for Belle French."

She was in the hospital. John felt his entire world narrow and crash around him at the thought of his beloved hurt. Sinking onto the couch, he swallowed thickly and said, “What happened?”

"She was brought in about an hour ago," the woman explained, "She’s been asking for you."

"She’s alright?" He felt his chest getting tighter and tighter. Standing he grabbed his sunglasses, keys, and wallet and began moving toward the door.

"She’s being treated right now. Other than a few minor injuries, she’s all right."

John rushed to the elevator, moving as if he were on autopilot. He could think of nothing but getting to Belle - needed to see with his own eyes that she was alright and had not been stolen from him. He had just gotten her; he couldn’t lose her now. 

~000~

The cab couldn’t have gone slower in John’s opinion. He resisted yelling at the poor man in the driver’s seat, as the traffic wasn’t his fault after all, and thought idly of how used to Belle’s way of driver he had become. It felt wrong to be in the backseat of a car that wasn’t a Rolls Royce. It was strange looking at the back of a head that wasn’t covered in caramel-colored curls. Everything about this was wrong, and John was trying with all his might to remain calm.

He was failing miserably, but at least he was trying.

When he finally reached the hospital, he shoved a hundred dollar bill into the man’s hand and rushed inside, demanding to be taken to Belle’s room. He knew he was causing a scene, and that he would be recognized, but he hardly cared. What mattered was getting to her, something which no one else seemed in a hurry to make happen.

He got her room number and shoved past the other nurses around the station, then took the stairs despite the pain it caused to get to the fourth floor. By the time he reached room four-one-three he was out of breath and slightly sweaty, but pushed inside anyway, not able to bear another moment of not being at Belle’s side.

She was sitting in bed, dressed in one of those unflattering hospital gowns, staring down at her left hand, which was held up in a sling.

"Belle," he gasped.

She looked up, and Gold froze mid-step at the sight of her. There was a large gash above her left eye, as well as a small cut on her cheek. Tears filled his eyes and he practically collapsed onto the bed, wrapping her in his arms as he squeezed her tight.

"Hey," she whispered, lifting her good arm to rub his back.

John said nothing, content to merely hold her. She wasn’t all right, not by his standards, but she was in one piece, awake, and seemingly her chipper self. She would be okay.

Belle pushed him back gently, and shifted so he could sit on the bed. He joined her, keeping one arm wrapped around her protectively. Belle smiled at the gesture and leaned into him, understanding.

"I’m okay," she said softly, "A little banged up, but nothing that can’t be fixed." She paused, laughed, and then added, "I can’t say the same for the car."

"I don’t give a shit about the car." He snapped.

"Well I do!" Belle argued, turning her head to look at him. "I liked that car."

"It can be replaced."

"I want that car," she said, "We’ve made a lot of nice memories there."

_Oh._ She was right, he realized. They had made some good memories in that car. He’d spent three years in the back seat, where he and Belle had grown close. It was in that car that they shared their secrets, laughed, and fell in love. Now that he thought about it, he wanted the car back, too.

John pressed a kiss to her temple, breathing her in and taking comfort that she was okay.

"We’ll fix it, then," he murmured. "Though admittedly, I’d much rather have you than the car."

Belle smiled. “Me too.”

John leaned back against the uncomfortable hospital issued pillow and pulled Belle carefully to rest against him. He felt calmer now, having her in his arms. She was safe, if not a little worse for wear. “So what happened?”

"You’re never going to believe me." She said dryly.

He wasn’t sure what that meant, so he kept silent and let her continue.

"I was hit by a tire."

John blinked. “I’m sorry?”

"A tire," Belle explained. "It hit me."

Again, John could do nothing but blink. “A tire hit you,” he echoed.

Belle nodded. “Bounced down the road and smashed right into the hood of the car.”

"I-" John faltered. "You’re right. I’m having trouble believing that."

"So did the EMT’s."

"There were EMT’s?"

Belle gestured to her arm, wrapped snugly in a sling. “How do you think I got here?”

Of course, he thought, feeling stupid. Of course someone else had to have brought her here. He leaned forward, and carefully pressed a kiss to her bandaged wrist. “So how damaged is my precious driver?”

Giggling, Belle settled back against him. “Fractured wrist. Bruised from the seat belt. The airbag popped and caused my sunglasses to cut me. Remind me to never buy metal rimmed sunglasses again.”

"Remind me to never let you out of my sight again," he stated, "You’re a magnet for mishaps."

Laughing, Belle snuggled closer on the small bed. “You’ll take care of me.”

He nodded, bringing his arm up to rub his fingers over her shoulder. It was as much a comfort for him as it was for her, and she dozed off after a while, the events of the day wearing her down.

A doctor came in not long after that to check her, and John begrudgingly roused her so they could run a few tests. John insisted she be allowed to go home when the tests showed no further injury or problems and the doctor saw no reason to keep her. He prescribed some medicine, and instructed a nurse to being the discharging process.

"Eager to get to your photo shoot?" She teased as she signed the discharge papers. John snorted.

"I’m sure the world will survive without another photo of me," he said, sighing when Belle gave him a stern look. "I’ll reschedule. But you’re my top priority."

Belle hummed, satisfied with his answer. “And you’re an absolute sweetheart.”

John flushed and grumbled, turning to grab her clothing from the bag that contained her belongings. “Let’s get you home so I can take proper care of you.”

"Are you going to kiss me and make everything better?"

John stepped forward and pulled her to him, ever aware of her injured state. “Something like that,” he said with a smirk, then lowered his head to meet her awaiting lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	31. Fair Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after Zelena is kicked out of the theatre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous on Tumblr prompted: What happen to Zelena after her confrontation with Belle in NY?
> 
> Takes place immediately after Zelena leaves the premiere.

Zelena stumbled onto the streets of New York, grumbling and cursing Gold, his driver, and the entire world for not giving her what she so rightfully deserved. 

"Aww, what’s the matter?" A voice taunted from nearby, "Was he too busy screwing his driver to see you?" 

Zelena shot the woman a disdainful look. “Oh, do shut the hell up, _little sister_.” 

The dark haired woman scoffed and pushed herself off the wall where she’d been leaning. 

"You might want to show some gratitude," she said with a sneer that rivaled Zelena’s own. "I used _my_ connections to get you into the building after the curtain so you could chase after that old geezer. Not my fault you don’t quite make the cut.” She paused, then added a cutting, “As usual.” 

"You’re such an immature bitch, Regina," Zelena snapped, turning on her heel to storm the opposite way. 

Regina followed. “And you’re a psychotic, desperate attention whore who can’t seem to understand that your ex-costar simply isn’t interested.” 

Zelena whirled around to stare down her sister, oblivious to the few onlookers who seemed to recognize her younger sibling, but not her. “What does that tart have that I don’t?” 

Regina arched her brow, staring at her sister as if she were a child who couldn’t understand a basic concept. “Let me count the ways,” she said dryly. 

With a huff, Zelena turned away and stormed off again. A moment later, her arm was snatched by her sister, who had developed a particular skill of not being able to take a hint that her company wasn’t desired. 

"Let’s go get a drink," Regina suggested, "Maybe we can find you a nice, desperate guy who’ll be willing to sleep with you for a chance to say he had sex with a relatively-known actress." 

"Oh, rub salt in the wound, why don’t you?" Zelena hissed, though she made no effort to get away from her younger sibling this time. Regina hummed in satisfaction and held onto the red-head’s arm a little tighter. 

"You can’t always get what you want in life, _big sister_ ,” Regina said with an air of self-righteousness, “You may as well accept the fact that no matter what, you’re always going to be second best.” 

Zelena tensed and jerked her arm out of Regina’s grip. “Why am I getting a drink with you again, you horrid little bitch?” 

Regina shrugged, the elder’s words having no effect on her. She’d been called worse. “Because I’m buying.” 

Rolling her eyes, Zelena motioned her sister onward. “Fair enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	32. The Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Belle’s first date doesn’t end quite how he planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous on Tumblr prompted: Have Belle and Gold been able to go on any “dates” since they got back from New York?
> 
> Takes place sometime after coming back from NYC. 
> 
> The restaurant in this fic is real. Everything about it, decor and food, can be found on their website, perchla.com. I’ve never been there, I just googled top restaurants in L.A. and that was one of the top ones.

“This is so strange.”

John looks at Belle, who does indeed look strange sitting in the passenger seat of the car.

“We’re going on our first official date,” John says simply, “You’re not allowed to drive if we’re on a date.”

Giggling, Belle fiddles with the wrap on her wrist. It’s healing slowly, and she’ll be beyond relieved when she can finally take the damned thing off. She glances back over to John, who’s watching the road carefully. It _is_ weird being in the passenger seat. Everything feels different, off balance, and she’s not certain she likes it. Oh, she’s grateful that John wants to treat her to a special night by being the doting boyfriend and driving them to the restaurant, but for so long she’s been the one in the driver’s seat. That’s where she belongs, and their dynamic has been set in that function for over three years.

But then John reaches over and takes her hand in his. Suddenly it’s not such a big deal. She would have been content to be his diver for the rest of his career, happy to have him in her life. But she’s much happier with what’s blossomed between them recently. If being with John Gold means giving up her place in the driver’s seat on occasion, well, she’s not going to complain.

Though she does think he makes his right turns far too sharply.

They arrive at their destination, and take the elevator up to the sixteenth floor, to a lovely restaurant called Perch. The open restaurant offers a beautiful view of the L.A. skyline, and Belle feels her heart flutter as she takes in the bohemian décor that makes her feel as if she were walking into a true French bistro. John holds her unbandaged hand as they’re let to their seats at a small fire pit near the corner of the patio. It’s lit and the fire is warm, which Belle is grateful for. The night air is brisk, and she hadn’t wanted to cover her dress with a sweater, so she’s pleased to be near a source of heat. Drinks are ordered and Belle settles in her chair, looking to her right as John takes a seat next to her.

There are four chairs that surround the pit, but he’s chosen to be as close to her as possible. With a smile, Belle leans over, and catches John in a surprise kiss. He responds immediately, and Belle can’t think of anything more wonderful than this. Then she tries the restaurant’s Bouillabaisse.

It’s delicious and she offers John a bite. He agrees her choice is the superior one, and Belle laughs.

“I’ve always thought I had excellent taste.” She winks at him brazenly, and feel rewarded when he gives her a wicked smirk in return. This is how it’s meant to be, Belle thinks. The two of them together, enjoying a wonderful dinner, without a care in the world.

Though, there is something that’s been on her mind for a while, and though she doesn’t want to risk ruining their date, she can’t help but bring it up.

“Are you going to audition for that role?” Belle asks, after the waiter takes their dessert order.

John shrugs. “I’ve not put much thought into it,” he admits, leaning forward and taking Belle’s bandaged wrist. “I’ve been too busy taking care of my reckless driver.”

Belle resists the urge to roll her eyes. “I was just wondering,” she says gently, nodding to the waiter as their desserts arrive, “You haven’t mentioned it since Jefferson gave you the script.”

John releases his hold on Belle and sits back in his seat. Taking a bite of his chocolate pot de crème, he thinks. “Well, it would be a good idea to audition,” he says thoughtfully, “But part of me has been considering taking a break for a bit.”

Belle looks up at that. It’s news to her. “Why?”

“Because I want to enjoy you,” he says. “I’ve been acting all my life. But you and I…we’re new. And I want to be able to enjoy this. I want to take you places and enjoy our time together, but I can’t do that if I’m always working or we’re eating in a rooftop restaurant because it was the only place I could think of that the press couldn’t get to.”

Pushing her dessert aside, Belle scoots closer to John. “You love acting,” she says, “And I love watching you act. We’ve made this work for the past three years. I go where you go, remember? I’m your driver, and I have the very wonderful privilege of going with you while you shoot. Besides, this would be a great film for you to do. I’ve read the book. You’d be perfect.”

John laughs. “Of course you’ve read the book.”

“That’s not the point I’m trying to make.”

“It’s not surprising, though,” he says, “You’ve read every book-“

“John,” Belle says firmly. He closes his mouth and lets her speak. “If you want to take a break because you want to take a break, then I will support you in that. But if you want to take a break because you think you owe it to me, or you’re worried about the paparazzi or something, then don’t. I’ve been the subject of their gossip before, and I’ve no doubt I will be again. But that doesn’t mean we have to stop living our live the way we want to because sometimes there’ll be pictures of us somewhere. It’s part of the package, and I’ve always accepted that.”

“You really think I should audition?”

“I do,” she nods, “But it’s ultimately your decision.”

“The script does seem interesting,” John admits, “And I feel I’ve really found a knack for playing the middle-aged, intellectual type.”

“I don’t think you’re middle-aged.”

“I’m forty-eight, Belle.”

“And Scott Bakula is almost sixty. And yet he’s still considered attractive.”

John blinks. “Who?”

“Scott Bakula,” Belle says again, giving John a concerned look. “Quantum Leap? Star Trek Enterprise? Are you really telling me you don’t know who he is?”

John just shrugs. “John Wayne fan, remember?”

Belle makes a sound of disgust. “We have _got_ to get you up to date.”

“I think you were trying to make an entirely different point a moment ago,” John says as Belle stands and pulls him up.

“Yes, yes. You’re not middle-aged. And you’re hot. That was my point. Now come on. We have to go.”

“Where are we going?” John says as he sticks some money in the check book and follows his girlfriend to the elevator.

“Back to my place,” she informs him, “We’re going to watch Star Trek.”

“I’ve seen Star Trek,” he complains.

“Then tell me what the difference between a Vulcan and a Romulan is.”

“A what and a what?”

Belle sighs and tugs on his hand. “Exactly. Come on. We’re finishing our date on the Enterprise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	33. Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re both happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous on Tumblr prompted: Maybe seeing a little down time between them now?
> 
> This takes place immediately after "The Point".

“So that’s a Vulcan.”

“Yes.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“It’s sci-fi,” Belle explains, “And it’s amazing.”

“If you say so.”

Belle glares playfully at John. “If I can’t get you to like musicals, you are going to at least learn to appreciate the brilliance that is Star Trek.”

"I’ve seen Star Trek," he repeats, "And Doctor Who, and several other sci-fi shows. I was a young man once, you know."

Belle twists in his arms and pecks him on the cheek. “You’re still young.”

John rolls his eyes. “If you say so.”

They fall into silence, Belle curled up against John as she selects the next episode. It’s nearly two in the morning, but John doesn’t have anything scheduled for the following day, so Belle thinks there’s no harm in staying up. Besides, she thinks, it’ll be nice to fall asleep in his arms.

They watch the episode, but Belle can tell John isn’t nearly as interested as she is. So once the crew of the Enterprise solve the latest problem, she shuts off the television and snuggles closer to John, using his chest as a pillow. He’s already half asleep, and Belle finds the whole situation extremely intimate. She’s used to seeing him worn out and near sleep. But this time, instead of dragging him upstairs and leaving him to his own devices, they’re together, and there’s something about simply sleeping next to him that leaves Belle feeling warm and breathless.

"You know, I was approached to be in a sci-fi series."

Belle snaps her eyes open, and lifts her head. She’d been almost asleep, and isn’t quite sure she heard him correctly. For all that she knows about him, it still amazes her when he brings up something about himself that she’s never heard before. This is one of them. Nowhere in any of his interviews has he mentioned this, and Belle knows it probably shouldn’t thrill her so much to be told something she doesn’t already know about him. But it does. It’s such a simple, normal thing, to get to know someone, but Belle revels in the fact that for all she already knows, John can still surprise her.

"What?"

He laughs softly at her. “When I was in my early thirties. I was approached by a producer about a sci-fi show. It had to do with…space. Or something.”

Giggling, Belle says, “Most sci-fi has to do with space.”

Rolling his eyes, John pokes Belle’s side, causing her to squeal. “You know what I mean.”

"Why didn’t you take the role?"

John shrugs as best he could while lying down. “Wasn’t interested. Decided to do an independent film instead. Probably would have been better off doing the sci-fi show.”

Even without naming the film, Belle knows exactly what he was talking about. John wasn’t into big budget money-makers. He acted because he loved it, not because he could make millions from doing it. Belle firmly believed he was talented enough to be one of the A-listers Hollywood swooned over, but John was firm in his belief that he would only do a film if the script resonated with him. Clearly the script for the independent film he’d chosen instead - that went on to be a major flop - had meant more to him. And while John preferred not to discuss that particular movie, Belle knew it meant a lot to him. She didn’t quite understand; it had been the one film of his filmography that she’d actually considered turning off the first time she’d seen it. Nothing against John, but the film really was terrible. 

"I can just imagine you with pointy ears," Belle laughs, feeling silly in her sleepy state. "Or maybe you could be a really weird alien, with green skin or something."

"Or I could go home where I won’t get teased mercilessly by my rude driver."

Belle drops her head onto his chest - perhaps a little too hard, judging by the way he grunted form the impact. “No,” she says, “I’ll behave.”

She feels him wrap his arms around her. “You better.”

She’s content again, and almost asleep once more when he speaks again, softly and uncertain. “You think I should audition for that film. Really?”

She nods, not having the energy to sit up and talk to him about the script Jeff gave him. “I like it,” she murmurs, “It seems like a really good script. It’s up to you, though.”

"I’ll audition," he whispers, petting her hair as he turns so they’re side by side, rather than Belle laying half on top of him, "If it will make you happy."

"I’m already happy," Belle sighs and snuggles closer to John. "You do what makes _you_ happy.”

"I’m happy, too." He presses a kiss to her cheek, and Belle sighs contentedly.

"Well, then," Belle says before she finally drifts off to sleep, "What have you got to lose?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	34. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has more than one surprise for Belle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous on Tumblr prompted: Was the car able to be repaired after Belle’s accident?
> 
> Anonymous on Tumblr prompted: Was the car able to be saved after Belle’s accident?
> 
> Takes place after Belle's wreck.

“Do you not trust me?”

“No.”

Belle rolls her eyes, a gesture unseen by John, whose hand is covering her face.

“I can keep my eyes closed by myself, thank you very much.”

“And I don’t believe you. Now keep walking straight.”

Belle sighs. “Will you at least tell me why you’re being all secretive and weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” John replies, offended, “I’m trying to give my girlfriend a surprise.”

“You’re being weird.”

“And you’re being childish.”

In response, Belle turns her head over her shoulder and sticks her tongue out at him, squeaking in surprise when she feels John grab her tongue in between his fingers.

“Childish,” he repeats, then lets go of her tongue. She’s glaring now, but playfully, and sighs dramatically.

“Fine,” she grunts, “I’ll behave.” She feels him press a kiss to her cheek and she smiles.

“Good girl. You can look now.”

His hand moves and Belle blinks as she adjusts to fluorescent lights. It’s not that bright, but she’s been in complete darkness for about ten minutes. When she’s able to focus, she instantly squeals and turns to throw her arms around John’s neck. He falters a little, but manages not to fall, and wraps his arms around her in return. They’re in the parking garage underneath Jeff’s studio office, and sitting before them is Belle’s Rolls Royce Phantom, completely restored and looking like new.

“Is it-“

“Ours? Yes. It is.”

Belle kisses John hard on the lips in thanks, then says, “I thought they said it was totaled?”

Throwing his head back, John can’t help but laugh. “Oh, it was, sweetheart. It took a lot of convincing, but I finally managed to persuade Jeff to pay for the car to be fully repaired. Some parts are new, obviously, but most of the car is the one we’ve spent the past three years in.”

Feeling her heart bursting with love, Belle wraps her arms around John. “Thank you so much,” she says softly, before pulling back to play with a strand of John’s hair. “What did Jeff say?”

“He called me a lovesick idiot and said that if he ever goes bankrupt he’s going to blame me and destroy the car for revenge.”

“Sounds like Jeff.”

“Indeed.” He waits a beat, then adds, “That’s not the entire surprise though.”

Belle arches a brow. “What else could you possibly have? This is already wonderful, John. I really am just…..in awe.”

Smiling, John takes Belle’s hand in one of his, while the other digs in his suit pocket. He pulls out the familiar set of car keys, noted for the little blue bird and Eiffel Tower key chains. He presses a kiss to Belle’s palm, then drops the keys into her hand. “The other surprise is across town.”

“Are you going to make me close my eyes for that too?”

John shakes his head. “Can’t. You have to drive. I’m due there in an hour for my first read-through.”

It’s a natural thing to hear and so Belle slips into driver mode, nodding once and turning to move toward the car. She stops after several steps and whirls around to face John, who is standing with his hands clasped in front of him, looking smug and very pleased.

“You're auditioning for the part?”

“I _got_ the part.”

She squeals and rushes back to him where he pulls her close and kisses her soundly. It’s reminiscent of when he revealed to her that he had taken the role in _Arcadia_ , but where that celebratory kiss had been impulsive and uncertain, this one is intentional and thoroughly enjoyed. Once they break away, and Belle doesn’t feel so dizzy, she asks, “When did you even audition? I had no idea…”

“I have my ways,” he says as he takes her hand and leads her toward the car. “Now come on, or else we’ll be late.”

She presses a kiss to his cheek, practically beaming at him. “Of course, Mr. Gold.”

John grimaces. “I _hate_ when you call me that.”


	35. Sooner than Expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things may be going faster than John realizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous on Tumblr prompted: Gold, have you done any window shopping (or real) for jewelry in recent times?

He’s never giving her the day off again. John feels as if he’s going to go mad without Belle, and it’s only eleven in the morning. He isn’t due on set until that night, and so Belle had asked if she could take the day off to go have lunch with Mary Margaret and then spend a couple hours with her father.

With the way their schedule is, she doesn’t have much time to see family and friends, especially now that John is working on a film that, for some reason, is generating quite a bit of buzz. They’re only a few weeks into production, and already critics and Hollywood gossip panels are discussing whether or not he’ll be nominated for an Oscar. John rolls his eyes. He’s been nominated once before, but he has no idea why people think _this_ is the film that will get him nominated again. 

Deciding that he’s not going to spend the day cooped up and miserable without Belle, John decides to go incognito and enjoy his time alone. He’s used to the lack of solitude by this point, but now he almost resents it. Ever since Belle, he’s never been truly alone, and now that they have taken their relationship to the next level, she’s with him even more than before. Not that he’s resentful of that fact. He’d rather Belle be by his side at all times. In fact, he’s actually toyed with the idea of asking the director of his new film if she could have a few cameo scenes, just so she can be on set with him.

He tosses that idea out rather quickly. As much as he loves her, Belle isn’t a very good actress.

He dresses in jeans and a white button-down shirt, and dons a pair of large sunglasses. It’s not the greatest disguise, but he’s also not in the mood to deal with layers and a hat on such a warm day. He leaves his townhouse and walks toward downtown L.A., making a mental note not to stray too far, lest his leg act up. He’s going to be on set for at least nine hours tonight, and he doesn’t want to wear himself out.

He walks along the path, surprised that no one has recognized him yet. Normally, on the few occasions he’s out like this, he gets stopped at least twice by people asking for an autograph or picture, and though he adores his fans and will never deny them their request – he can still hardly believe people want his autograph - he’s almost grateful that for once he’s left in peace.

He has no real objective on this outing; he mainly just wanted to get out of the house and do something to kill time until Belle calls to let him know she’s on her way back. It’s only eleven though, so she’ll just now be leaving her apartment to meet Mary Margaret. He sighs. Lunch will take them at least two hours, what with all the catching up they’ll want to do. Since the return from New York, both Belle and Mary have been extremely busy in their own ways, and this will be the first time they’ve gotten together, so John knows he won’t hear from Belle at all until at least one. Then she’ll make the roughly forty-five minute drive out to Upland to see her father. They don’t have the best relationship, John knows, in part because her father disapproves of her choice to be a driver. He thinks she deserves so much more, could _be_ so much more, and John agrees entirely. He knows he can’t keep her forever as his driver, nor does he intend to. But until that day comes, he’s going to treasure every moment he has in that car with her.

John wonders what Maurice would think now that Belle’s employer is also her boyfriend. He can’t imagine the man would take it very well. As he walks, thoughts wrapped up in the realization that if he and Belle decide to make their relationship permanent someday, he’s going to have to meet the man. John can only imagine how well that will go. But he loves Belle, despite not having said the words yet to her yet, and he’s already certain that he wants to marry her.

From the corner of his eye, John spots a window display for a jewelry store and the sparkle causes him to stop and peer into the display. In the center, surrounded by diamonds and other elaborate pieces of jewelry marketed to astonish the woman it’s given to, is a simple sapphire ring. It brings to mind the image of the late Princess Diana’s ring, only this one is of a much simpler design. It’s small, not garish like that large pieces that overshadow it in the display, and John thinks of just how lovely it would go with Belle’s eyes.

He makes a note of the store he’s in front of, and with one last look at the sapphire, he walks on, thinking that he’s going to have to meet Belle’s father sooner than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	36. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's newest costar brings back unpleasant memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt.

It’s an unspoken rule that where John Gold goes, so does Belle French. So when Belle arrives at the set location in London (a city she _still_ can’t believe she’s in) and the guard waves her on through without so much as a second thought, Belle can’t help but laugh. She’s a known figure now, if only for the fact that she’s almost always by John’s side. As his driver it’s expected of her, but sometimes Belle wonders if she has the words ‘I’m dating John Gold’ stamped on her forehead for all the smiles and sly nods she receives when she arrives on an otherwise closed set. 

She’s arrived a week late, John having gone on for some pre-production work before filming starts, but now she’s finally here and she can’t wait to surprise John. One of the perks of her job has always been that she gets to watch John work up close. She’s always admired him on the big screen, but there’s something magical about seeing him actually transform into the character he’s playing. To see him melt into the role, only to reemerge a few minutes later as the man she knows so well is an utterly fascinating experience, and it never gets old watching him work.

Belle follows the signs toward the location, her badge of clearance hanging from a lanyard she purchased at a gift shop in the airport. It’s slightly tacky, with the image of Big Ben plastered all over it, but Belle can’t help but find it charming. It’s a small yet practical souvenir of her first trip to London, though the real prize will be seeing John’s face when she appears during a break with a piping hot cup of coffee.

She reaches the set and sees the cast and crew are in the middle of rehearsing a scene. It’s one she knows well: it’s the scene where the two main characters have their first major confrontation in the middle of the university where the story takes place. It’s one of her favorite scenes in the book, a truly emotional and draining moment in which a major reveal is made. She can’t wait to see John in action. He’s going to be amazing.

She waits off to the side, away from the cast so they can work without being interrupted. John is standing across from a man who is most likely the director, and the two of them are talking animatedly, most likely over a specific nuance of John’s character. John is brilliant at picking up the smallest detail of the men he plays, which is why Belle is so convinced he’ll be perfect as Dr. Hershel. The man is layered and complex and flawed. He’s the kind of man John excels at playing.

The director motions someone over, and Belle’s heart sinks as a red headed woman bounces over, hugging John in the process. Belle understands he’s an actor and develops close relationships with his fellow cast mates, but seeing another red head - and a touchy one at that- is just too much for her to bear right now. After everything that’s happened, Belle can’t stomach another red headed actress. Feeling sick, Belle thinks it might be best to just make her way back to the hotel and wait for John there. But before she can leave, she sees John finally notice her. The smile he offers her does little to calm her distress.

He excuses himself, then makes his way over to her. She can’t leave now, not without worrying him unnecessarily, and so she stays still. He doesn’t embrace her when he reaches her - they’re in public and they still haven’t revealed their relationship - but he does squeeze her arm tenderly, and offers her that grin that’s reserved only for her.

"When did you get here?" He asks softly, his eyes shining in delight at her presence. Belle wishes she could muster up enough false cheer to match his, but he’s staring in another film with another red head, and she isn’t sure if she can take another Zelena.

"Just now," she says weakly, then thrusts out her hand toward him. "I stopped and got you some coffee." She presses the coffee further and John takes it, catching her hand when Belle tries to pull away.

"Coffee is always lovely, but seeing your lovely face far more desirable at the moment." He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a long sip, "This is a close second, though."

She manages a small laugh at that. He always seems to know what to say to her. She looks away and bites at her lip, not certain what to do now. John makes a decision and gently pulls her toward him.

"Come on," he says, and for a moment, tenses. "There’s someone I want you to meet."

She can’t protest, not without having to explain herself, so she silently stumbles along behind him, trying to keep her own cup of coffee from spilling. They arrive at the place he’d been standing a few minutes prior, and Belle tries not to stare at the red head while John introduces her to the director who quickly disappears after greeting her.

She shakes the man’s hand and then John nods toward the other woman. “And this is Ariel Fisher. Ariel, this is Belle.”

Before Belle can scrounge up anything to say, she’s being hugged tightly, and then Ariel takes Belle’s hand in hers. “It’s so wonderful to meet you!” She exclaims excitedly, and though she’s an actress, Belle can see the sincerity in her face. “Mr. Gold has told me about you, and I’m really just so excited to have someone else here who isn’t a local. I feel like a fish out of water.” Her voice lowers and she admits in a hushed tone, “Not only that but this is my first major role and I’m so nervous!”

All doubt, anger, and fear slide off Belle’s shoulders like an old, mangy cloak. This girl may share the same fiery shade of red hair as Zelena Greene, but that’s where the similarities end. Belle smiles and squeezes Ariel’s hand.

"It’s nice to meet you too. And you’re going to be fine," Belle assures her with a smile. Ariel beams.

"Mr. Gold keeps telling me that," she says, "So hopefully you’re right." She hears her name being called and her shoulders slump dramatically, "I have to get to makeup," she says, "It was so nice to meet you Belle."

She lets go of Belle, then touches John’s arm. Belle is surprised when it doesn’t bother her. “See you later, Mr. Gold!”

John winces and Ariel bounces off toward the trailer across the way. Belle glances up at John, amused.

"I don’t have the heart to tell her I hate it."

"I think she’s trying to be respectful."

John nods. “She’s a sweet girl. Very….affectionate.” He raises an eyebrow at Belle and adds, “I thought it might be best to let you meet her before you witnessed her…..hands on approach to life and began to worry.” 

Belle swallows. “Why would I worry?”

The look John gives her tells her he had the same initial uncertainty about Ariel that she had. “Red headed costar? We’ve not had the best experience with those.”

Belle laughs, suddenly feeling silly. It probably is in part to jet lag, but there’s also relief that John not only understands her feelings, but had made sure to eliminate the fear of a repeat situation as quickly as possible. “No, but Ariel seems to be all right.”

"Indeed she does. She’s unbearably cheerful." 

"And very respectful." At John’s scowl, she adds, "It’s cute."

"You’re going to encourage that habit, aren’t you?"

"Oh, Mr. Gold," Belle grins mischievously, "I’m going to exploit it terribly."

"I figured as much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for story info and disclaimer.


	37. Three A.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s amazing what can happen at three in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymousnerdgirl on Tumblr prompted: It’s amazing what can happen at three in the morning.
> 
> awayfromthesafeharbor on Tumblr prompted: Gold finally drops the L-bomb…. or vice versa. 
> 
> ladybugbear2 on Tumblr prompted: Just wondering if sex is a thing for them.
> 
> **This chapter contains smut.**

Belle groans when the phone rings, pulling her out of her much needed slumber. She glances at the screen, frowning to see that it’s Jefferson, and he’s calling at half past midnight. He’s half-mad on the best of days, but even he knows better than to disturb her sleep for no reason at all. Concern pulls her out of her dazed sleepiness and she answers with a half-groggy, “Hello?”

"You’re idiot boyfriend is going to be the death of me."

"Is he all right?" She’s nervous, afraid that something bad has happened. Has John wound up in jail again? Has his leg given out and caused him to fall and hurt himself? She can think far too many horrid situations that are about to befall her, and it astounds her that her mind can venture to such dark places so quickly. Sitting up, she runs her hand over her face and then through her hair, waiting for Jefferson to assuage her fears. 

"About as all right as one can be when they’re nearly blackout drunk."

Belle blinks. John enjoys the occasional drink, but he isn’t the type to get drunk. Of course, she’d never pegged him as the guy who would get arrested for assault charges either. But she recalls all too clearly _that_ phone call, and so maybe he’s entirely able to get shit-faced. At any rate, Jeff has no reason to lie, and now Belle’s worry shifts. 

"What do you mean he’s blackout drunk?"

"He’s safe, if that’s what you’re worried about," Jeff clarifies. It’s exactly what she was afraid of. "What I mean," Jeff says slowly, over exaggerating his words, "Is that I got a call from some club telling me I needed to come pick Johnny boy up because he was too drunk to get home on his own."

"Then why are you calling me?" Belle asks, "Do you want me to fuss at him for being irresponsible? He’s a grown man, albeit a stupid one at the moment."

"I can’t go get him," Jeff says, "I’m not about to wake up Grace to go on a late night rescue, and I’m certainly not going to leave her here by herself. What sort of parent do you think I am?"

Belle lets her head drop into her hand. “Couldn’t they call him a cab?”

"I didn’t think about that," Jeff says, and he sounds a little irritated. Belle can understand why, though she’s not sure why he’s directing it at her. "But I was more focused on making sure he got into the hands of someone he trusts. Which is pretty much just you. Can you just go get him? I’ll make it up to you."

Belle sighs. “I’ll go get him.” 

Jeff makes a noncommittal sound, and hangs up. She sits for a moment, staring at the phone in annoyance as she realizes he hadn’t given her the address for where John is, and she’s not about to go on a search through every bar in the area looking for him. A moment later her phone lights up with the address and Belle’s brow creases as she recognizes the location as a trendy jazz club on the strip. How the hell did John get blackout drunk _there_? 

Sighing, she rolls out of bed and grabs a pair of jeans and a sweater.

As much as she loves him, John is in so much trouble.

* * *

She reaches the location at one-fifteen, and frowns when she sees the lights are off. She’s never been here, though she’s wanted to go, and she recalls from looking up the venue online that they’re usually open at this time of night. Suddenly worried and suspicious, Belle pulls out her phone and verifies that this is indeed where John is supposed to be. It is, so she shrugs and tugs on the door, only slightly surprised when it opens.

She’s got an apology on her lips for whoever was forced to babysit John, and more than a few scathing words for him. But anything she might have to say gets lost in the gasp that slips out instead. 

Before her, looking as impeccable - and sober - as ever in a three piece suit, is John. Around him are vases upon vases of roses, and there are countless candles on every available surface not occupied by flowers. Behind him on the small stage is a woman in a swanky black dress who smiles widely at her before she opens her mouth and begins to sing a soft rendition of ‘All I Ask of You’ from one of Belle’s favorite musicals.

Belle’s eyes wander back to meet Johns, and he steps forward, proud smirk on his face as he pulls a single red rose from behind his back. “If you’ll have it,” he says and Belle reaches out to take it, her eyes wide and mouth agape in shock.

"You’re not drunk." She finally manages.

John shakes his head. “Is that what he told you? Well, it worked I suppose.”

She’s staring at him foolishly, she knows, but she’s having trouble wrapping her mind around what’s happening. She’s now aware that Jefferson had lied to her to get her here, and she’s not sure if she wants to thank the crazy man or punch him.

"You look confused," John says with a slight frown. Belle glances up at him.

"I don’t understand. What’s this for?"

John leans down to kiss her and whispers against her lips, “Happy three month anniversary, sweetheart.”

Belle lets out a startled squeak. It’s been three months since that fateful night in New York, she realizes, and suddenly she feels all the confusion and annoyance of the past half hour melt away into nothing. She’s being thoroughly romanced at the moment - for her _anniversary_ \- and she’s certain her heart is going to burst from the sudden expansion of love and awe she feels.

Then she glances down at her attire and frowns. “I look awful,” she whispers in horror, glancing back up to John, “You should have given me some warning! I’m a mess!”

That signature smirk of John’s returns, and he nods his head toward something behind Belle. She turns, laughing out loud in delight when she sees Mary Margaret standing there, stomach just now starting to show signs of the life growing inside, holding a dress and a small makeup kit.

"One of the perks of this pregnancy is the fact that I can’t sleep," she says with a wiggle of her eyebrows. "Come on girl."

Belle laughs and runs after her friend, who ushers her into the ladies room to help her change. Ten minutes later, Belle rushes out the door, where John is waiting for her eagerly. She slows her movements and walks toward him slowly, watching with pleasure as he takes in her appearance. The lacy dress is quite stunning, especially when paired with nude heels and Mary’s amazing hair and makeup. Belle feels like a princess in a fairy tale, and tonight is her happy ever after. 

When she reaches John, he pulls her into his arms, and kisses her soundly. She’s dizzy by the time he pulls away.

"This is amazing," she says as John leads her to the table closest to the stage. Belle sees it’s slightly more decorated, with a bottle of champagne and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. He pulls out the seat for her, then sits beside her and pours them each a glass of champagne. The woman on stage begins to sing another soft ballad, this time from 'Kiss Me Kate'. 

Taking a sip of champagne, Belle turns to John. “This is one of my favorite songs,” she sighs dreamily, and John nods.

"I know."

"How?" Belle asks. "Did you pick the songs?" At his nod Belle gapes, "How on earth did you manage that? You hate musicals!" 

"I checked your iTunes playlist and found the most listened to songs."

Belle smirks, then nods appreciatively, “Sneaky. I like it.”

John chuckles. “I thought you might.”

They sit back and enjoy their drink while the woman serenades them with several more love songs. As she sings, Belle scoots her chair closer to John and rests her head on his shoulder. “This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” she sighs dreamily, shivering in delight when his hand wraps tightly around her shoulder. 

"It’s not over yet," he whispers, then stands and pulls her up with him. He leads them to a small clearing near the middle of the group of tables. The woman begins to sing again, this time crooning out the words to ‘Love Changes Everything’, and Belle is beginning to sense a pattern in the music he’s selected and shivers in delight. John takes her hand in his and begins to lead them in a dance that’s more swaying than anything, but the fact that he’s doing this, especially with his leg, is enough to make Belle’s own legs weak at the knees. 

He spins her slowly, and when he pulls her back to him asks, “You know why I did this, don’t you?”

Belle nods, then lays her head against his shoulder as they continue to dance. She allows herself a moment to breath him in, to revel in the fact that not only is she in the arms of a man whom she’s desired for years, but he went so far out of his way to make this night special for her. She thinks she knows what he’s going to say, and she can’t wait to hear it. She’s equally as eager to return the sentiment.

"Because it’s our anniversary," she replies with a mischievous grin that John misses due to her position. She feels John’s grip on her waist tighten just slightly, and he steps back just enough so that he can look at her. He lifts his hand to her chin and tilts her head up so that her eyes meet his. He looks so nervous, so uncertain, and Belle wonders just how many times he’s tried to open up to someone only to be rejected to the point that he fears saying the words she so desperately wants to hear. How can he think, after everything, that she wouldn’t love him?

"Or is there something else?" She asks gently, lifting her hand to play with his hair. She wants him to be brave and actually say it. She wants to hear it for herself. 

"There is."

"Yes?" Belle asks, pressing closer to him.

"Belle, I…I love you."

As a teenager, she’d often imagined scenarios similar to this. Meeting John Gold and making him fall desperately in love with her. They’d be the fuel to her most intense dreams, and she’s always thought that hearing him direct those words toward her, especially in that incredible accent of his, would be the most wonderful thing ever.

Nothing can compare to the real thing, and the words leave Belle breathless and warm. She wants to tell him the same, but she needs to kiss him more, and so she pulls his face closer and smashes her lips against his, desperate to consume him in the blazing fire of passion, desire, and love that is engulfing her. He responds eagerly, his hands squeezing her hips as he moans into her mouth. Their tongues meet and Belle feels her knees weaken and she knows if they don’t stop now, they’re going to end up on the floor. 

And though that sounds entirely appealing and wonderful, that’s not where she wants to end up tonight.

"I love you, too," she breathes when she finally releases his lips. He’s panting, as is she, and his hair is mused from her hands wildly raking through it. A goofy grin forming over his features.

"You do?"

"Oh course I do," she breathes, "I’ve loved you - _really_ loved _you_ for a long time.”

His mouth is on hers once more and he walks her back until they bump against the wall. He’s pressing against her, thigh in between her legs, and it’s the most glorious feeling Belle’s ever known. Her hands grip the lapels of his jacket and pulls him closer, reveling in the groan that slips from John’s lips. 

They’ve never really discussed sex. It’s been an unspoken yet mutual decision to take things slow, and until this moment, Belle had been completely satisfied with their relationship. John was a busy man, and as his driver, so was she. They’d had plenty of moments that could have led to such an encounter, and Belle recalls them all fondly, especailly the opening night of John’s play, when she’d been so wound up over his performance that had they not been interrupted, she’d probably have ripped that costume off him and begged him to take her right then and there. There had been several similar moments where the passion had pooled and heated until they were left dizzy with desire, but they’d never followed through with it. Now Belle can’t think of a reason why, and though she’s been entirely happy to take things slow, right now all she can focus on his how it feels to be pressed up against him, and she wants more. She wants it all, and she wants it as soon as possible.

She murmurs something that seems incomprehensible in the flurry of kisses and caresses, but John is as desirous as she is, and understands her wants instantly.

"My place is closest," he growls against her neck and Belle nods eagerly, pushing him away and heading toward the door.

She pauses for a moment, and looks back at the stage. The singer is gone, and most of the candles have gone out. John pushes her out the door, takes a key out of his pocket and locks up. “I know the owner. The girl works here and will close up once we’ve left. I’ll give the key back tomorrow. Let’s go.”

It’s a good enough explanation for her, and so Belle nods and then John is pulling her down the street toward his pent house. It’s three in the morning at this point, and while Belle normally hates being awake at this hour, right now she’s never been happier.

 

* * *

The moment the door to his townhouse is locked, Belle pushes John against the wall, lips attacking his as he reaches around to pull down the zipper of her dress. She kicks off her shoes, then pulls John with her as they ungracefully stumble toward his bedroom, his suit jacket getting tossed aside on the way. Once there, John practically shoves her onto the king size mattress, and begins yanking at his tie. Belle slides back on the bed, vaguely remembering the last time she was in this room. But that thought was not entirely pleasant, whereas the sight of John stripping in front of her was, and she moved forward to claw at his buttons to speed things along.

Once his shirt is unbuttoned, Belle drags him onto the bed to hover over her, and they begin another series of hot, intense kisses that draws a raw moan from John’s lips. It’s a beautiful sound and Belle is determined to hear it again before the night is over.

John moves so Belle is resting against his goose-feather pillows, and begins trailing his lips down her throat and toward her chest. Belle sighs and moans in delight, loving the feel of John pressed against her. She’s been aroused by him before, but this is unlike anything she’s ever experienced.

She feels like she might go insane if she doesn’t get them naked soon, and so she begins working on his belt, fingers fumbling as she tries her best to focus through the otherwise blinding pleasure.

When she gets his fly down, she celebrates her victory by kissing him again, then pushes him over so that he’s on his back. She straddles him, hands gripping his hair. He manages to pull her off him long enough to finally get her dress completely off her and throws it to the side. He squirms below her and finally manages to get his pants off completely. All that’s left is underwear, but now that they’re here, Belle suddenly feels the desire to slow down. She wants this, that’s for certain. She’s never been more turned on than she is right now, hovering over the man of her dreams. But whereas before in the jazz club when she’d been desperate to get him here, now she wants to savor the experience. Sex hasn’t the most important thing in their relationship, but now they’ve reached this place and though Belle can’t wait to finally reach that moment of unity with the man she loves so dearly, she also wants to take her time and make this the kind of memory neither of them can recall without needing to reprise it the moment the thought occurs.

John seems to sense the shift in mood and pulls her down to kiss her, but instead of the frantic, mad teasing they’d been enjoying prior, this is slow and deep. Belle sighs against him and presses herself closer, enjoying the utter bliss of the moment. She’s finally where she has always longed to be, and she decides that’s something that needs to be said.

"I’ve wanted this for so long," she whispers against his mouth, and he hums in delight as his hands begin to wander lower.

"You should have said so," he replies lazily, lips trailing down her throat.

"Not just _this_ ,” Belle says, glancing at their nearly naked bodies. “But to be with you, to know you loved me the way I love you. I always thought I was foolish for hoping. But now you’re here. And you love me.”

"So very much," John affirms before flipping them over so that he regains his position atop her. "The question is though, what will you do with me now that you have me here?"

In lieu of answering, Belle slides her hand down and grips him firmly, causing him to cry out in pleasure. “I can think of a few things.”

Spurred by her remark, John yanks down her underwear, then his. His hands are on her a moment later, teasing and rubbing with just the right amount of pressure, and Belle feels her whole world narrow until the only thing that exists is the absolute bliss that is pulsing between her legs.

"Please," she begs, and a moment later she welcomes him into her, crying out in ecstasy. This is where he’s always meant to be, and she can’t believe just how perfect it feels to finally be joined together. 

She can’t think or speak at this point, the sensations of John moving over her - in her - too much for her to do anything other than just _feel_. She clings to him, their foreheads pressed together as they move. Belle has dreamed of this, of all of this: the sex, the companionship, the love. All of it has been the subject of her fantasies, but none of it has ever quite measured up to the glory of the real thing. It’s electric, powerful, and she feels drunk off the sensations he’s stirring up in and around her.

Above her, John is staring in wonder, and as amazing as it is for her, she wonders just how he feels about the whole situation. She’s dreamed of this for years, but how long has John wanted her this way. Has he ever longed to have her writhing underneath him as she is now? Or has he been too afraid to hope for anything more than what they had that he prevented himself from letting his mind wander to what-if’s. She’d like to know, but she’s also in the throes of pleasure and decides that it doesn’t really matter how long both of them have wanted it because they have it now, and that’s what matters. 

Then John’s mouth lowers to her breast and Belle cries out and lets everything but the feeling of John surrounding her fade from her consciousness. All things must come to an end though, and too soon Belle feels herself reaching that peak of pleasure. She grips John tighter, and feels him begin to tremble. “I love you,” he groans against her, and something about the raw desperation in his voice, strained from wild exertion has her trembling to the core, gasping and then finally coming undone before him. He finishes a moment later, and they both sag against the bed, sweaty, exhausted, and amazed.

John follows a moment later then collapses beside her, breath ragged, and hair plastered to his sweaty head. Belle turns to look at John, smiling as she takes in the sight. He’s breathing hard but his eyes are alight with life and love, and Belle can’t help but to breathe, “Wow.”

He lets out a tired laugh. “Wow, indeed.”

Turning so that she’s curled against him, Belle kisses his chest. “I love you too, by the way.”

His arm winds around her and pulls her closer to him. She’s sweaty, but so is he, and though a small part of her longs for a shower to wash away the sticky aftermath of their union, she can’t bring herself to ask. In this moment everything is perfect, and if she were to freeze time, she thinks she’d freeze this moment, because here, naked in John’s bed, feeling him trying to catch his breath beside her is the happiest she’s ever been.

John turns his head toward hers and Belle is startled to see a trace of tears in his eyes.   
She wipes at them with her thumb, and John blinks, cheeks flushing darkly. “Sorry,” he says, turning his head to look back at the ceiling and tries to will the tears away. Belle won’t have it.

Moving so that she’s hovering over him, she asks, “What’s wrong?”

Be blinks at her in confusion for a moment, then shakes his head. “Nothing, sweetheart,” he swears, “Just….overwhelmed.”

"I’m that good, huh?"

He laughs, and any tension that had started to creep up on him seems to deflate, “That you are, but it’s more that for the first time in my life, I am truly, completely happy.”

"Because you got laid?" Belle asks, feeling safe in teasing him. It’s how she’s always handled his dark moods, and she can’t imagine it’ll be any different now.

John rolls his eyes. “Because the woman with whom I am ridiculously in love with loves me back.”

"Of course I do."

"I’m a difficult man to love, sweetheart. You know that."

Belle purses her lips. “Try that again, but be more convincing this time. I need you to look utterly convinced of what you’re saying, otherwise your audience isn’t going to believe it.”

A smile sneaks its way onto John’s face, but then he pushes his lips down to a scowl. “I’m just warning you.”

"John, I’ve seen you at three in the morning, pre-coffee. I’ve seen you at three in the morning after an eighteen hour shoot. I’ve seen you when you’re a real grump because your leg is hurting tremendously, and I’ve dealt with you when you thought I was just an annoying fan who managed to sneak her way into your life. And I’ve seen you at-" she pauses to glance at the clock on his night stand, "Three-forty-two in the morning naked, post-coital, and crying. I’ve seen every side of you by this point, and I’ve liked everything I’ve seen."

"I love you."

She smiles and taps his nose playfully, “And I definitely love you, Mr. Gold.”

He’s got tears in his eyes, but he laughs at her, pulling her to him and hugging her tightly to him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he sighs, “But I’m so glad I have you.”

She wants to tell him he didn’t have to do anything, that love isn’t about whether or not they deserve it. But she has the rest of her life make that point clear, and so she just snuggles into his embrace instead, and tells him once more just how much she loves him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I have so far. Updates will be posted as I complete prompts for this verse. I have a lot planned, it's just a matter of finding time to write! 
> 
> If you would like to send me a prompt for this verse, please send me a message on my Tumblr. My name is the same there as it is here. 
> 
> Please remember I have the right to reject any prompts for any reason. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wish to prompt something for this verse, please send a message to my Tumblr page _only. My user name is the same here as it is there, so I shouldn't be hard to find. I reserve the right to refuse a prompt request for any reason._
> 
>  
> 
> _Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis._  
> 


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